


The Sun, the Moon, and the White Lotus

by Mimic_Teruyo



Series: The Sun, the Moon, and the White Lotus [1]
Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Gen, Origin Story, Pre-Canon, Touhou PC-98 Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21604870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimic_Teruyo/pseuds/Mimic_Teruyo
Summary: A thousand years ago, a Hakurei shrine maiden hell-bent on vengeance encountered a strange youkai in the woods, a former nun dreaming of peace between humans and youkai. Forming an alliance of convenience, neither could have anticipated what would follow...
Series: The Sun, the Moon, and the White Lotus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678693
Kudos: 21





	1. The Shrine at the Edge of the World

**Author's Note:**

> This is a remastered edition of a fic posted on ffnet from 05/14/15 to 11/08/19. By remastered, I mean that I retouched the first three chapters (the oldest of the bunch by a significant degree), as well as altered some minor details in later chapters. Other than that, it's identical to the original version.
> 
> I owe special thanks to Gravity Saix, Shadow1176, and large-rock. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All named characters are canon characters.

Once upon a time, there was a story. It is long dead among humans but still told by youkai, recounting the tale of a land where worlds collided. In a remote part of Japan, secret but still well-known, lay an easy to dream worlds, Makai, Hell, and even worlds beyond that. Unsurprisingly, the land burgeoned with youkai and creatures of all kinds, often clashing with the few humans clinging to the same territory. 

The youkai called the place the Well of Spirits, a paradise and nightmare wrapped up in one.

The only person keeping humans from extinction was their champion, a shrine maiden with mysterious powers living in an old shrine. She guarded the entrance to other worlds and fought the youkai without fear, even as rumours abounded she was more than half youkai herself.

If you tell this legend to a resident of Gensokyo, they will scoff at you. What, are you trying to trick them? The old shrine is the Hakurei shrine, the shrine maiden stomping on theyoukai's faces is the Hakurei shrine maiden, and the Well of Spirits is clearly just another name for Gensokyo. Are you trying to be clever? Go fetch them a fresh drink and next time, tell them a proper story.

Only, they would be as wrong as they were right.

The story goes further back in time, far, far back...

* * *

The harsh winds of late winter swept across the barren fields and the few people out on such a freezing day. Two such people, a man and a boy, wrapped their warmest clothes closer to their bodies and kept walking down the narrow path, slowly approaching the stone steps ahead.

The man paused abruptly, and looked at the hill ahead of them. Already, the red gate above the steps was clearly visible, the only patch of colour in a grey and dreary world.

He turned his head towards the boy. "Mind your bearing. "You can't stand gawping at everything like that once we reach the shrine."

The boy, a gangly youth with more than one person's share of nose, bowed his head. How was he supposed to stop looking? Everything in this new village was so strange, so different he could never have guessed such a place existed merely a day's walk from the house where he had been born.

In recent years, youkai attacks in the area had become all too frequent, but nothing had shocked the boy more than when at the end of a torturous winter, his father had announced that they would move to Reishoumiya. All the boy had known of the village rumours were warning of it being a nest of youkai, but his father had assured him that the number of monsters meant nothing when there was someone watching over them. The Hakurei clan would surely keep them safe. The boy had been uncertain, but the steel and determination in his father's eyes had ultimately made him agree and help pack their meagre belonging.

His father gave him a stern look. "With any luck, we are going to meet the leader of the clan. You had better not embarrass me in front of her."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "A village run by a woman?"

His father clicked his tongue. "Less of that lip, boy. Not just a village run by women, but by a goddess."

"A goddess?"

"We have lived here for half a month, and you didn't know that? Have you paid no any attention to the world around you since..."

The man fell silent as the boy looked away. "I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean that."

The boy nodded curtly. It had been a mistake, and he readily forgave his father for it. It was a wound in both of them, after all.

His father cleared his throat. "But yes, they have a goddess in flesh here. She's called Princess Ayame." 

His tone altered, tinged with a deep-seated reverence like he had personally been there to witness the birth of the deity. "She is a daughter of the Hakurei clan. It is said that she already possessed extraordinary abilities as a child. One day,they brought a man mauled to the brink of death by oni to the shrine. He was beyond hope, so when their attempts to tend to him failed, they took him to an unused storage beyond the boundaries of the shrine to die in peace. Only, when the villagers came the next morning to retrieve their friend's corpse, they found him alive and well, with no sign of the fatal wounds. Stranger yet," he hushed his voice, "the entire storage was full of fresh irises and chrysanthemums. Mountains of them, though there was still snow on the ground.

The boy's heart stopped. Chrysanthemums had been his mother's favourite flowers.

"When they were still aghast," the man quickly continued, "the young Hakurei daughter, stepped forward from amidst the flowers and smiled at them. Her hair had turned gold, the very colour of sun. They all immediately fell to their knees, knowing they had witnessed the birth of a goddess." 

The boy's shoulders relaxed as he pictured the scene. His father smiled. "That's why she's called Princess Ayame. A goddess whose miracles bring flowers in their wake."

The boy smiled back weakly, more to himself than to his father. It would be wonderful to visit the shrine of such a goddess, even if the odds of actually seeing her were slight. Still, the honour! A humble peasant like him petitioning a goddess! He followed his father up the path and then the steps with renewed vigour. 

His legs began to shake on the final steps. Heart pounding, he raised his gaze to witness the courtyard and the shrine standing before it. The shrine was no palace, but still grand enough to impress him with its elegantly decorated roof and porch.

There was only one person on the courtyard: a young woman dressed almost as plainly as the village girls, her long black hair tied back with a single white ribbon. She was lazily sweeping the ground by the porch, and as she spotted the visitors, her muddy brown eyes narrowed into slits. She discarded her broom and vanished inside the shrine without a word.

"That was..." The boy's words petered into uncertainty.

"The elder sister of Princess Ayame, from what I've heard." The man cast a sharp eye at the boy. "Lady Hakurei, in other words. Keep your head down."

The boy did as he was told, but his mind was reeling. Weren't the Hakurei a noble clan? A noblewoman sweeping, in what amounted to underwear, where people could see her? Did they have no servants? He had to admit he didn't know if this was truly unusual, as his only experience with nobles and important people came from stories of people in shining palaces and stunning women whose faces no commoner would ever see, but he had to admit that his expectations had been dashed.

The door slid open, and the surly shrine maiden returned, this time with company: first, an ancient woman, so small and wizened the boy expected her to collapse at any given moment. Yet her eyes burned with life. She leaned into a cane decorated with etchings of vines and flowers, and soon made way for another shrine maiden.

The boy's jaw dropped.

His father immediately prostrated himself. The boy hastily followed suit, but couldn't resist catching another glimpse of who had to be Princess Ayame.

She only wore four layers over her undergarments, each well made but relatively plain, but while her dress was plain and unadorned compared to her distant peers, her beauty was unmatched: perhaps only the rumoured Princess Kaguya could truly outshine her radiance. Her cascading golden curls marked her as truly alien, more goddess than human.

As the boy stared, she opened her eyes, revealing a pair of irises as blue as the midday sky. The boy quickly bowed his head again.

"It is alright. There is no need for such formalities," Princess Ayame's voice, clear as bells, kindly beckoned them. "You two must be our new residents. It is a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Thank you, Princess Ayame," the older man muttered, raising his head ever so slightly from the ground.

The boy gasped, not believing what he was seeing. His father had told him thing were handled differently in Reishoumiya, but to first have a woman of noble birth tidying up the courtyard, and now to greet the mistress of the house, who was also a goddess, face to face? His knees quivered from the shock.

And what a goddess! The boy had never seen anyone like her. Her hair was like spun gold, flowing gently down her back with nothing to fetter it. Her eyes were like gentle flowers, her skin like silk. He saw a certain resemblance between the two Hakurei maidens, but it was also clear why one was the goddess of the shrine while the other swept the porch. His heart pounded so loudly he feared it would rip itself right out of his chest in its haste to present itself as a humble offering to the goddess.

"Please, do stand up. We are but a small community, and we all stand equal here."

The boy stood up, scarcely believing what he was hearing, and dared to steal another glimpse of the goddess' lovely countenance.

"Thank you for paying me a visit." Princess Ayame bowed shortly, and the boy thought he was going mad. What kind of an insanity was this land, where humble peasants could walk right into the dwellings of gods and aristocrats, and not only be admitted, but be bowed to by them? None of this could be real, but yet when the boy looked at Princess Ayame he knew his imagination didn't stretch this far,

His father bowed again, though not as deeply as before. "Princess Ayame, we bring you a petition from the old couple living by the northern border of your domain."

"Is something amiss?"

"They are in great peril, Princess Ayame," The father said smoothly. The boy looked at his father with new amazement. How quickly he adapted to these bizarre circumstances. "Youkai have begun to invade from the east, and the entire forest is teeming with them. The haven't dared to leave their homes since yesterday for fear of being eaten or worse. Only today, they sent the fastest runner they had to dispatch a warning to the rest of the village." He bowed deeply. "They beg for your assistance, Princess Ayame."

"And my assistance they shall have." Princess Ayame turned and bowed at the old woman. "I will return as soon as possible, Grandmother."

The wizened face cracked into a toothless smile. "Of couse, my child."

"Good luck, Meizuki," the other shrine maiden suddenly interjected, hands on her hips.

As the boy frowned at the strange name the shrine maiden had used for the goddess, Princess Ayame nodded. "Thank you, sister." She turned towards the gate. "Please, lead the way."

The boy knew his heart would explode before he ever saw the village again.

* * *

As soon as the delegation was beyond hearing distance, Awazuki grabbed the broom and sighed. She began sweeping, more out of habit than need. "I wish they stopped calling her that."

"And why is that?" her grandmother asked.

"It's not her real name, for starters. Besides, Meizuki doesn't like it. She's just too polite to tell them no."

Grandmother gave her a piercing glare. "Has she told you that herself? She has never said a half a word against it in my presence."

"You know she doesn't want to be called a goddess." Meizuki was always so quick to humbly downplay any praise, and there was a lot of it. It was silly, but Awazuki felt bad for her.

"She ought to be grateful for the honour of received such a lofty title, and  
to consider the shrine's prestige more carefully the next time she denies her divinity."

"Bah." Awazuki kicked a stubborn block of ice clinging to the porch. "Does listening to people's complaints and exterminating youkai make you a goddess now?"

"Nothing good comes from jealousy, Awazuki."

Awazuki rolled her eyes and focused on her sweeping. Why did she even bother?

She had swallowed her reply, but it was as though Grandmother had heard it regardless. "If you are not jealous, show it. Be grateful to your sister, and for everything she has done for you." She slowly hobbled back inside. "There are still leaves by the eastern corner of the porch."

"Right, right."

As soon as Awazuki was certain Grandmother was beyond hearing distance, she blew a raspberry in her general direction. Then, with a sigh, she resumed her duties, occasionally pausing to glance at the valley below, wondering exactly where Meizuki was at that moment and what she would be fighting against. A tsukumogami? A tengu? A nature spirit gone awry? It would explain why spring was yet to come.

She shrugged. Whatever it was, Meizuki would win. She always did. If anything, she'd outlive every youkai infesting Reishoumiya.

With a secret smile at the thought, Awazuki kept sweeping.

* * *

Reishoumiya, a tiny community nestled between a mountain and a large forest. Most of its inhabitants were simple farmers, working unflinchingly on their small rice paddies, satisfied with their simple lives. The village was all but isolated, with only a handful of visitors from nearby villages brave or foolish enough to risk facing the youkai on the way. What little advances made it into the community were mostly religious: the inhabitants alleged their shrine to be the first in the world, and their jizou statue to be one of the first ever brought to Japan.

All in all, Reishoumiya stood alone. The few merchants and visitors hardly ever brought news from further away, and what was told was swiftly forgotten. The residents had very little interest in the rest of the world, and whoever was the de jure lord of their community was anyone's guess. They had chosen their own leaders, and one family especially stood above the rest: the Hakurei clan, with their wisdom and uncanny skill at fighting youkai. It had been three generations since they had taken control of the shrine, and had successfully ruled Reishoumiya ever since. Even the nearby villages respected the name of Hakurei, especially now that they had a living goddess guarding the village, unanimously hailed as the new leader after her parents' deaths. In spite of her young age, she had succeeded perfectly as both a shrine maiden and a diplomat. 

She was gracious. She was of divine descent. She was undefeateable...

* * *

"Meizuki! Meizuki!"

Awazuki ran towards the solemn procession approaching, desperately hoping the night betrayed her eyes. Her gut twisted. There was no mistake. The villagers were indeed carrying her sister, her clothes drenched in blood.

"What happened? Where did you find her?" she half gasped, half snarled at the villagers.

"By the forest to the east," said one of the villagers, her face nearly as pale and stricken as Meizuki's. "We have no idea what could possibly have caused this..."

Awazuki gritted her teeth. "We'll find out." She looked around, trying to swallow her panic. "Bring her inside. Quickly!"

She slid open the door and looked on as the villagers set Meizuki gently down on the straw mattress. Awazuki immediately knelt down next to her, wiping Meizuki's hair off of her sweat-covered brow. Her face was cold to touch.

She shuddered as she got a better look at her wounds, then began to shake her by the shoulders as gently as she could. "Meizuki? Meizuki! Please, you have to wake up!"

A feeble moan escaped Meizuki's lips, but she did not stir. Half mad with shock and concern, Awazuki turned furiously towards the villagers.

"Do you have herbs? Clean cloth? Water? Don't just stand there! She needs help!"

The villagers dispersed. Awazuki focused her full attention on her sister, her heart pounding so wildly so fast she thought it would simply wear out and die.

"Meizuki?" She shook her harder when there was no response. She couldn't lose Meizuki. She just couldn't.

Finally, Meizuki's eyelids fluttered open. She turned her head groggily, her gaze dull. 

"Awazuki?" Her voice was shaky and as weak as a whisper.

Awazuki clasped Meizuki's icy hand and tried to smile. "It's me. It's going to be okay now. I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to you when I'm here."

Meizuki didn't respond, but a weak smile made its way to her face.

Awazuki placed her other hand over the first one. "What happened, Meizuki? Was it the youkai? What kind of a youkai? You have to tell me!"

Meizuki closed her eyes again, and a weary sigh barely stronger than an exhale escaped her lips.

"Meizuki?" A new wave of panic shook Awazuki. "You can't sleep now! Please!"

Meizuki's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth, as if she was strugging to even form words. Finally, she mumbled: "Wings... giant wings..."

"Wings? Was it a tengu?" Tengu rarely appeared in Reishoumiya; it was usually only the oni who descended from the mountain, over which the two races had argued over since time immemorial. Still, they were the first type of winged youkai that immediately sprung to Awazuki's mind. "What happened?"

But Meizuki didn't respond: she had already drifted to the other side of consciousness. Awazuki quickly reached out to make sure her heart was still beating, still clasping Meizuki's hand as if letting go of it was the same as letting go of Meizuki's spirit as well.

It was then that one of the villagers returned with a bucketful of water, followed by Grandmother hobbling in with uneasy steps, her face ashen.

"Oh, my poor child..." She fell on her knees next to Awazuki and turned towards the villager. "Fetch clean cloth, quickly!"

"It's already being fetched," Awazuki said quietly.

"The more and faster the better. Go!"

The villager left in a hurry.

Grandmother brought her hand to Meizuki's torso and grimaced. "This should never have happened," she muttered, more to herself than to Awazuki. "She is a strong child, but even then I'm not certain she'll be able to overcome these wounds..."

Awazuki's stomach turned.

"This..." She curled her hands into tight fists. "This... whoever did this will pay."

She stood up and dashed to the table where she had left her gohei, then slid the door to the room so violently the wooden frame shook.

"Awazuki!" Grandmother snapped. "You are not going into the woods!"

"I'm not going to justsit here while the creature that did this to her is out there!" Awazuki yelled back.

"She is dying, Awazuki! If you have a heart, you will remain by her side. You will never forgive yourself if she passes on while you're seeking some futile revenge."

Awazuki paused long enough to look at Meizuki again. She shook her head. "I made a promise."

"Enough!" Grandmother growled with such authority Awazuki was frozen in her tracks. "It's a fool's endeavour, and I refuse to lose both of you!"

Awazuki hesitated, but only for a second. "I'm taking the orb with me." She exerted her divine powers and beckoned at the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb, the clan's secret weapon against youkai. The orb rose from its usual place near the entrance and hovered after her as she shed her coat off her shoulders and ran outside.

"Awazuki!"

She ignored Grandmother's cries and the startled looks of the villagers on the courtyard as she ran past them. All she had in mind was finding murderer and slaughtering it.

She slowed down only to pull out a pair of red sashes from her waistband, which she used to tie her sleeves out of the way. That done, she flew down the steps and into the darkness lit only by a sliver of the moon.


	2. The Saint of the Forest

In truth, the eastern woods were that only in name: merely a segment of the enormous forest that surrounded Reishoumiya on three sides than a thing of its own.

Nothing could have been further from Awazuki's mind as she stepped into the woods, burning with a righteous anger that kept the chill from her skin. All was silent for now but for the babbling river which flowed through the forest and village alike.

She ventured further in, guiding the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb in her wake and listening to the rushing water. As a child, she had once tried to follow the river all the way to its mouth just to see where it was. She had only walked for five minutes before Grandmother had noticed her absence and came running to snatch her back, followed by the scolding of a lifetime.

Back then, Awazuki had had no real concept of the danger the forest posed. Now, she knew it all too well. She strode on, uncaring.

After a few tentative minutes to re-accustome herself to the forest terrain, she continued her mad dash, avoiding some of the branches on her way only by a hair's breadth. She had run all the way so far, and would continue to do so all the way to the moon if necessary. She only had one goal, burned into her thoughts with a red hot iron.

Vengeance.

Despite several calm days in a row, remnants of mist lingered in the valley as she descended down the hill, more to do with the supernatural residents of the forest than the weather. She waded into it with an accustomed step and kept moving, hurrying towards the slope at the other side of the valley, over the   
gnarly roots and sudden holes hidden underneath the moss and the veil of night, just waiting for an unfortunate victim to stumble and injure themselves. She ignored them all. Nothing would stand in her way.

Nothing here should have stood in Meizuki's way, either...

Awazuki slowed down to wipe the tears from her eyes, then kept running.

She slowed down again a moment later. Where to go? She didn't actually know where Meizuki had been, nor did she see any clues. No matter how she squinted, the faint waxing moon and the freshly awoken stars simply weren't enough for her to make out anything but black, indistinct shapes around her. 

Just as she was about to speed up again, planning on following her gut instinct alone, she heard a low snarl to her right. She tensed and beckoned the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb to her side. That done, she focused all her attention to her ears. Something was definitely there, breathing shallowly behind one of the trees.

She approached gingerly, but despite her caution she stepped on a dry twig, snapping it in half with a loud crack. The sound of breathing disappeared.

Before Awazuki could decide on her next course of action, an ear-piercing shriek deafened her, and the world went completely dark as something pounced upon her from the shadows. The shadow pinned her to the ground and began scratching at her face, trying to claw her eyes out.

Awazuki clenched her teeth together. Without even bothering to shield her eyes, she focused her thoughts on the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb. She steered the orb to the left and allowed it to absorb more of her power. Then, she launched it at full strength into the youkai's ribs.

There was a crunchy, sickening sound, and the youkai fell off her with a cry. As Awazuki scrambled on her feet she got her first look at her adversary: some kind of a rat youkai, human-shaped but covered from top to toe in the matted grey fur of a beast. It snarled, revealing the full length of its yellowed fangs, and weakly readied its knife-like claws for another assault.

Awazuki ignored the blood trickling down from the cuts on her face and instead called for the gods. Bolstered by divine strength, she grasped the youkai by its grimy tunic, lifting it off its feet and smashing it against a nearby tree. Before the youkai could mount a counter-attack, Awazuki clasped her hand around its neck, squeezing it like a vice. She retrieved an ofuda from the folds of her clothes and smashed it on the youkai's forehead. As the divine light from the ofuda scalded the youkai, she focused her thoughts once more the Hakurei Ying-Yang Orb and hopped back as the orb rammed against the youkai one final time.

The rat youkai gurgled its last and went limp. Awazuki turned away from its corpse, ignoring the dark stains on her white shirt.

"Who's next?" she cried out into the darkness ahead, stumbling away from the scene of battle. "Which one of you bastards wants to get what's coming to them next? Come at me!"

Had she been thinking straight, she might have realised the futility of her endeavour: she had some strength, well boosted by skill and guile, but nothing that would last far if she chose to take on a forest full of youkai head on. However, in her berserked state she paid no heed to either common sense or self-preservation. There was a word to keep, after all.

She heard rustling in the frozen underbrush, and with a snarl, extended her hand and sent the orb flying towards the source of the sound. It hit the ground with a loud thud, but when she beckoned it back, it returned with no new stains.

"Cowards! I thought humans were supposed to fear youkai, not the other way around!" She prowled onwards and heard the brittle plants snap under her feet, senses heightened to their limits, narrowing her eyes to see as much as she could. "Where are you, youkai with wings? I'm coming for you, so you might as well show yourself now!"

"The violence you are so intent on will only bring you misery," a quiet, but commanding voice said from her side.

Awazuki turned on her heels, flustered.

A young woman, who most certainly hadn't been there when Awazuki had last looked in that direction, stood in front of a massive oak tree at the foot of the slope. She wore the modest robes of a Buddhist monk, and her face a mask of sorrow and controlled pain. She had the most unusual hair Awazuki had ever seen, even taking Meizuki's into account: it was mostly brown, but the hair growing from the top of her head — assuming the limited light hadn't betrayed Awazuki's eyes — was clearly purple.

Immediately, Awazuki was struck by a feeling of wrongness. As unassuming as the woman looked, she had a presence that would give pause even to the most reckless and foolhardy. Something about her, something Awazuki couldn't put her finger on, spoke of both great wisdom and great power.

 _Youkai_ , Awazuki's instincts screamed. _She has to be a youkai_

"Who are you?" she asked brusquely, glaring at the youkai.

The youkai pursed her lips, then briefly bowed her head. "My name is Byakuren Hijiri. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"None of your business, Hijiri." Awazuki spat, pronouncing the name like a curse. Hijiri frowned, but Awazuki paid it no mind. All she cared was figuring out whether Hijiri was the youkai who had attacked her sister. She had never been especially good at gauging her opponent's strength beforehand, but Hijiri was oozing with power, no doubt about it. "Did you hide your wings or what?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Cut the crap. I know you're a youkai. Where are your wings?"

"I have no wings." Hijiri stared intently at Awazuki. "You are an youkai exterminator, then?"

Awazuki snorted. "What does it look like?"

"So, you must be the one who has rampaged through this forest tonight." Hijiri's eyes narrowed. "You must cease immediately, or I have to remove you from the woods. By force, if necessary."

Awazuki curled her hands into fists. "Not until I have done what I came here for. Just try and stop me!"

For a moment, Hijiri looked sad again. "I dislike violence, but to protect the youkai of these lands..." She raised her chin, "I will give you one more opportunity to leave and never return. If you have any sense, you will take it."

Awazuki growled. The youkai had the higher ground, and there was no questioning she was powerful. Powerful enough to be Meizuki's slayer, wings or no wings? Awazuki wasn't sure yet, but she was about to find out.

Charging forward, she called for the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb, sending it flying towards the moon. With a scream, she ran up the hill and lunged herself at the youkai, holding her gohei forward like a knife. Simultaneously, she removed her attention from the orb, causing it to plummet from the sky and towards Hijiri.

Hijiri clicked her tongue. "Pitiful." She waved her arm in a large circle, then held it forward to meet Awazuki's onslaught.

Awazuki found all her momentum gone the second those pale fingers touched her, immobilised in the middle of her strike. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words or insults strong enough came to her.

All the same, the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb continued its dive towards earth. With uncaring eyes, Hijiri held her head up and with another flick of her hand, summoned a light breeze which somehow was enough to throw the orb off its intended path and made it gently float towards the ground some feet away from them. It landed on the ground with a soft thud and started rolling down the hill.

Hijiri her gaze back towards Awazuki. Before Awazuki had a chance to even feel fear, she found herself flying backwards, a searing pain spreading from her chest, the taste of metal in her mouth. She landed painfully on her left arm, barely keeping herself from crying out. She tried to sit up, only to find herself immobilised from the neck down. 

Awazuki turned her head to see her enemy. Cold sweat ran down her forehead.

The forest was no longer dark. The youkai, now descending to where Awazuki was crushed down by unseen forces, glowed with a pure, unearthly light, strong enough to illuminate the valley, the thin mist floating around, and above all the severe, determined expression on the youkai's countenance. Her hair was floating upwards despite the lack of wind, and every pore of her being seemed to be emanating sheer power.

Awazuki knew she was dead.

Hijiri stepped right next to Awazuki and raised her hand. The glow around it turned blue, and from the way Hijiri looked at her, Awazuki guessed it was intended to deal the finishing blow on her. For a brief moment, Awazuki entertained the thought of a counter-attack: perhaps she'd be able to take the youkai by surprise with a quick leg sweep, or even a desperate tackle? But no matter how she struggled, her limbs remained useless.

She glared up at the youkai, battling tears. She would meet her death bravely head on, looking her assassin the eye; she owed that much to herself. No crying. None.

She couldn't do it. Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

"What are you waiting for?" she growled, hoping to overcome her other emotions through wrath. "Just do it already!" Now, that the situation was stretching on beyond her threshold of spiritual pain, true fear seeped into her veins. Fear not just for her own life, but that of her dear sister. Fear that she had failed to avenge Meizuki. Fear that the youkai wouldn't actually slay her, forcing her to live with her shame unless she took her own life afterwards. "Do it! I wouldn't have hesitated if it had been the full moon and the situation was reversed."

Hijri tilted her head. "What difference does the phase of the moon make?"

Awazuki growled, both out of genuine annoyance and as an attempt to hide the quivering in her voice. "My powers are tied to the moon. Who cares? Just kill me already!"

"Very well," the youkai bowed her head. "If you wish for your death so badly, I shall have to grant it to you." The cold anger i Hijiri's eyes had given way to sadness. "Before that, however, I wish to ask you some questions. What was your goal when entered this forest tonight? Simply to slay youkai by piecemeal?"

"What difference does it make? Just kill me."

"It may not make a difference, but I wish to know. Tell me."

"Fine!" Awazuki spat. "It was for revenge! A youkai killed my sister tonight! I wanted to find the winged bastard that did it and rip them in half! I wanted to rip their guts out and decorate every tree in the forest with them! I wanted to bleed them dry and burn their remains! They killed my sister!"

"Your sister? I saw no human remains in the woods."

The knot in Awazuki's chest tightened. "She came back home, just barely. But her injuries are too much, and there's no way we can save her." She bowed her head. "If only it had been me... if I had been hurt in her stead, she might have been able to do something about it. But she can't save herself..."

The youkai looked thoughtful. "So, she still lives?"

Awazuki looked away. "When I left, yes." Her grandmother's warning rang in her ears. What if Meizuki had died while she was away?

The glow around Hijiri's hand vanished. "In that case, return to your sister. Trying to seek meaningless vengeance will only bring you peril."

Awazuki looked up, barely daring to believe what she had just heard. "You mean..."

"Yes, you may go. If I ever catch you harming youkai, however, I will not give you a second chance. I cannot tolerate humans treating youkai poorly." Hijiri's hazel eyes gleamed in the pale magical light. "If your words were true, your actions tonight can be forgiven. However, by lashing out indiscriminately against all youkai because of the actions of one, you feed into the vicious circle of hate between humans and youkai. Think about your actions the next time."

"But you're not a local youkai yourself." Awazuki wasn't entirely sure she was right, but she had never heard of any monster like Hijiri living in the area.

"I haven't been here for long, no, but that doesn't mean I do not care for those who live here. All youkai are brothers and sisters."

More than anything, Awazuki wanted to smack the youkai for her sanctimonious spiel, but as she was still unable to budge, all she could do was roll her eyes. Still, if she had acted upon her instinct, she'd most likely be now dead, unable to avenge her sister. It'd be better to agree with the youkai for now and wait for another day.

Therefore, she swallowed her pride and nodded. "I understand. I will go. I want to see my sister." For the last sentence, she looked the youkai straight in the eye, summoning up tears to glisten in her eyes. She accomplished it far easier than she had expected, and discovered to her shock that she really wanted to return home more than anything else. She hadn't even gotten a chance to say farewell to Meizuki...

The youkai's stony expression softened just a tad. "Go. Take care of your sister. And never raise your hand against youkai again."

Awazuki discovered she could move again. She rose up to wobbly legs, not looking at Hijiri. "Right. Thanks."

"There is one more thing." Hijiri held her palms together, and when she parted them, there was a tiny red orb floating between them. "Take this and place it on your sister's chest. I cannot guarantee that it will work, but with any luck, her life will be saved."

Awazuki hesitated, then grabbed the orb with both hands. It was strangely warm. She clutched it tightly between her palms.

She looked at Hijiri with amazement. "Why are you helping me?"

"You acted out of love for your sibling. I cannot begrudge you for that." And for a brief moment, a faint smile appeared on Hijiri's face. "Hurry, now."

Awazuki wasn't sure whether she should thank Hijiri or not, but at that moment, she didn't care. Without further words, she turned around and rushed towards home, the tiny orb herd firmly in her hands, the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb trailing slowly after her.

* * *

Once at the shrine, Awazuki rushed inside without bothering to readjust her garments. The villagers had left. All that remained was Meizuki and Grandmother, the former lying on fresh blankets, the latter sitting in vigil by the former.

Grandmother turned her head as she heard Awazuki's footsteps. "I'm glad you finally came to your senses." She looked her up and down at her disarrayed garments with eyes of disdain.

Awazuki didn't respond. She knelt next to Grandmother and took Meizuki's hand. It was stone cold.

"Did you find the youkai?" Grandmother asked, Based on her tone, she expected a denial.

Awazuki shook her head. Unless Hijiri had somehow hidden her wings and turned out to be far more diabolical than expected, there had been no trace of the youkai. "Grandmother, I want to... can I have a moment alone with her?" She swallowed, summoning words that didn't come naturally to her. "Please."

Grandmother shook her head, but stood up all the same. "Of course. You too need to say your..."

Whatever the end of the sentence was, Awazuki never found out. Grandmother swallowed it and exited the room without another word.

Awazuki leaned over Meizuki. She was still breathing, but only barely. Time was running out.

A tremor of fear ran through Awazuki. What if Hijiri had been lying, and the glowing orb hidden in her fist would only make Meizuki worse? Hijiri had looked sincere when telling her of the cure, but looking sincere while being deceitful was well within the skill range of most youkai.

She shook her head. Either way, she had to try it. She had to. Even if it was nothing but a sliver of hope, it was more of a hope than if she did nothing.

She opened her palm and guided the orb gently to Meizuki's chest.

For several torturous heartbeats, nothing happened. Then, the orb sank lower still it merged with flesh, absorbed by Meizuki's body. The glow vanished.

Meizuki's eyes slammed open. She began to cough violently, so loudly Grandmother rushed back into the room.

"What did you do, Awazuki? What—" She fell silent, staring at Meizuki. Meizuki still looked stricken, but her eyes were wide open, and as her coughing subsided she adopted a calm expression.

"What happened?" Her voice was strained, but otherwise the same as ever.

"Meizuki!" Awazuki reached for her hand once again. It had regained some of its usual warmth. "How do you feel?"

Meizuki took several deep breaths. "Dizzy."

"You need to rest. And so do you, Awazuki." Grandmother crouched down and placed her wizened hand on Meizuki's forehead. "We thought we had lost you, child."

Awazuki let go of Meizuki's hand and rose to leave. She wasn't needed.

"Goodnight, Meizuki," she whispered. Then, she turned around and retreated into the sleeping chamber.

She laid out her mattress and fell onto it at once without bothering to change. She fell asleep almost at once.

For the entire night, her slumber was restless, packed with dreams full with visions of glowing beings with amazing powers, all imbued with a sentiment she had never before felt about a youkai.

Jealousy.


	3. Back-Meadow Dealings

Awazuki wiped sweat off her brow.

If she had been allowed to choose, she would have worn nothing but the simple wraps that left her legs bare she had worn as a child. Still, she was technically a noblewoman, and while no-one in the village cared much about propriety, there were some standards that had to be maintained. At least when she stayed at the shrine or went to hunt youkai, she only had to wear one layer on top of her kosode and hakama, but now that she was taking her sister's place in visiting the village, her grandmother had insisted on the bare minimum of four layers. Awazuki had gone with the lightest coats possible, pinks and purples that went well with the red and white of the rest of her outfit, but pretty colours didn't make the extraneous layers any less unbearably hot. How Meizuki always wore at least five layers like a proper lady and actually got goosebumps with less, she could never understand.

Still, even if she wound up reeking of sweat, none of the villagers smelled like roses either. Besides, she wasn't interested in marrying any of them, so who cared if she was unattractive as long as she did her job right?

She had heard that elsewhere, daughters of nobles were practically sold off to the highest bidder as soon as they were technically of a marriageable age. Sometimes she was truly glad to live in a backwater village with its own customs. Unlike those poor girls in big cities, she was allowed to leave the shrine and show her face to whomever she damn well pleased, as well as have a say in who she was to marry. She would need to find a husband one day only if Meizuki didn't, and Awazuki had already seen fifteen summers with no proposals and hoped for fifteen more, even if it meant she died without children. Better an old maid than dead in a year giving birth to a child for a man she didn't love.

"Awazuki."

Awazuki turned around on the porch. Half of Meizuki's face was visible through a chink in the door. She was still hideously pale, but by now she was capable of eating solid food again, and could even sit up for brief moments at a time.

Awazuki smiled, trying to keep her pity off her face. She pushed the door more ajar for a proper glimpse at Meizuki and crouched down to her level. "I thought you were asleep."

"I had to wish you luck, didn't I?"

Awazuki smiled. "It'll be fine. I asked Grandmother how I'm supposed to act at the village. Just rest.."

Meizuki beamed back. "I'm already feeling a lot better." If anything, the smile made her look more ill.

"All the same, child. You should go back to sleep." Their grandmother had appeared by Awazuki's side without her noticing.

"Of course, Grandmother." Meizuki lay back down and closed her eyes.

"Good child." Grandmother slid the door shut, then turned towards Awazuki. "Come here." She took her by the lapels of her outermost jacket and yanked it straight, not unkindly. "You must look your very best today."

"I know, " Awazuki mumbled, suppressing her frustration as well as she could. Her voice trembled, but she wasn't sure why. They had just gone over how she was supposed to act the previous night, and either way, she knew by heart what were the right things to say. At least, she was pretty sure she did.

It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. All she needed to do was walk down to the village, observe the youkai situation, ask the villagers about recent trouble, smile, leave a favourable impression, and return home. Meizuki had done that every week for two years without a single hitch. Awazuki could do this.

If only her hands would stop shaking.

Grandmother must have read her apprehension from her face, as her severe expression softened just a tad. "Do not fear. In the end, as long as your sister survives, whatever damage your conduct may cause, the Hakurei clan's position will remain secure."

Awazuki looked to the side, doing what she could to hide her expression. "I won't forget that."

She said nothing more as Grandmother finished tinkering with her appearance and hobbled back to the other side of the shrine. Then, with a heavy sigh, she picked up the gohei she had left on the edge of the porch earlier that morning and walked across the courtyard.

* * *

It took her twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of the village; down the stony steps, still slippery with icemelt, down the footpath across the meadow, past the crossroads with the jizou statue and down the western path from there. The air was brisk, with non-existent wind, just the way she liked it. Better yet, the long trip gave her time to reflect.

She had barely slept during the past several nights, tossing and turning and trying to comprehend the events of the fateful night. Just who was Hijiri? Where had she come from and why was she lurking in the woods surrounding Reishoumiya? If she wasn't the one responsible for Meizuki's injuries, then who was? Why couldn't Awazuki shake off he memory of her bitter defeat,of Hijiri standing above her god-like, emanating raw power? And why was it further followed by a stab of envy?

Her ruminations were interrupted by the sight of a cluster of small buildings, meaning she had reached the heart of Reishoumiya. Not all villagers lived there, but those who didn't were scattered across the area, and it was common custom for people to gather by the well by the houses here should they need any help or guidance from Meizuki that wasn't so urgent as to require a visit to the shrine.

 _This isn't how it's done in the outside world,_ Awazuki thought as she approached. _In all the stories, the villagers come to the nobles for aid, not the nobles to them..._

But this wasn't the outside world, and so she did her best to put on a polite expression. She was doing this for Meizuki, after all. Besides, she had nothing against the villagers. They were people living as best they could under difficult circumstances. Nothing wrong with that. It was all just a bit... dull, sometimes. Youkai, hateful though they were, were at least exciting.

The closer she got, the more she noticed that something was amiss. Several dozen villagers had clustered by the well, all their backs turned towards Awazuki, their attention fixed to something she couldn't see.

She paused and hesitated. Two young farmers, a man and a woman, emerged from the group, carrying hoes on their backs and walking towards Awazuki, paying her no mind. As they approached, Awazuki caught their hushed conversation.

"It's awfully convenient timing. That's all I'm saying," the woman said in a low voice.

The man scoffed. "You're always so sceptical."

"Our goddess is injured hunting youkai, and suddenly another youkai hunter shows up? News don't travel that fast."

"It's a coincidence, nothing more."

The woman rolled her eyes. "You're so naive."

"You saw her for yourself. Did she look like someone who would conspire like that? Maybe we should go back so that you can ask her personally exactly why she's here."

"Like she'd give me a straight answer."

"Excuse me." Awazuki spoke up. The farmers flinched and looked up in surprise. "What's going on here?"

After a moment of stunned silence, the woman turned towards the man with a fresh frown. "See, she's not even cooperating with the Hakurei."

"Maybe no-one told her of them yet?"

"I asked you a question," said Awazuki sternly.

The woman bowed. "I'm sorry, Lady Hakurei. A Buddhist youkai hunter just arrived here today. She said she'd stop all youkai attacks in the area for nothing but some food."

"All youkai attacks?" Awazuki snorted. "Obviously she has no idea what she's getting herself into."

"She claims to be an oni specialist," said the man. He turned towards his partner. "Either way, did you see the way the others listened to her, almost like she was a goddess as well? I suppose it's not that surprising now that Princess Ayame is incapacitated, but..."

"Right." Awazuki had to smother a flinch at the words 'oni specialist', and then continued the man's line of thought, trying to keep bitterness out of her voice and not fully succeeding. "Of course they would turn towards the next person who showed up for safety. It's not like anyone else will protect them."

The woman gave Awazuki an oddly sympathetic look. "Since you're here in person, Lady Hakurei, perhaps you could talk to her? I'm not sure she's trustworthy."

The man sighed. "Here we go again."

"I will go," Awazuki said quickly before they could continue their argument. "It concerns all of Reishoumiya, after all."

The farmers bowed and walked past Awazuki.

Awazuki suppressed a sigh. She wasn't surprised that the villagers all but ignored her when she so paled next to Meizuki, but it still stung. She too had her track record in exterminating youkai and keeping the village safe, after all. Was she really so invisible that the moment Meizuki was incapacitated, the people thought themselves utterly defenceless?

Trying to swallow her bitterness, she marched forward, then lightened her stride to step quietly to the tail end of the crowd, standing on her toes for a better view of what was going on.

Here, finally, she spotted the person the villagers were gathered around. It was a tall woman, with strange hair; light brown turning purple at the tips. She was dressed like a Buddhist nun, and her age was impossible to gauge: she looked young, but the serene expression on her face was that of a far older person.

However, it was not the woman's age that interested Awazuki. It was that she instantly recognised her.

The youkai from the woods.

Awazuki found herself speechless and unable to move. The audacity! How dare this youkai prance into the village and pass herself as a human? And how could the people be falling for it?

She looked on, still dazed. Her purpose announced, Hijiri was now speaking to a childless couple with a patient smile on her face.

"We have plenty of room to spare," the wife of the couple babbled excitedly. "We cannot offer you any luxuries, but it would be a great honour to be your host."

Hijiri bowed. "A corner on the floor is all I need, and if you can offer me that, I will be most grateful."

The wife clapped her hands together. "Then it's settled! If you would so please, you can come with us right away! We live a short distance from here, and our door is always open to travellers. Isn't that right, dear?"

The husband nodded, with a look on his face suggesting he had just swallowed a gou's worth of fermented beans.

Hijiri smiled, and Awazuki could contain herself no longer. She stepped into the crowd, which dispersed around her as soon as they recognised her, leaving a straight line of sight from her to Hijiri.

Hijiri paused, and turned to meet her eyes. Her smile froze on her face. 

The wife blinked, and turned to look at what had caught the nun's attention. Before long, all eyes were on Awazuki and Hijiri.

Awazuki began sweating more vigorously than ever, cursing in her mind. She hadn't intended to cause a giant spectacle, but neither could she turn away. She couldn't fight the youkai here, not with so many bystanders risking injury, not when it was highly possible she would lose and perish this time around. At the very least, she needed to find some way to remove Hijiri from the village before attacking, so the villagers would have a chance to flee if it came to fatal blows. It was time to stretch her acting abilities to their very limit.

As she racked her brain for a sensible thing to say, all she could do was wonder what Hijiri was even doing there? Was she lulling the villagers into a false sense of security? Was she attempting to undermine the position of the Hakurei clan? Both at the same time?

She pulled her face into what she hoped was a mild, polite expression. "Greetings, traveller. I am Hakurei no Awazuki, acting as chief shrine maiden on behalf of my sister." Her eyes burned. "May I ask you for your name and the purpose of your visit?"

In her defence, Hijiri managed to mask her surprise well. She bowed deeply. "I am Byakuren Hijiri, an itinerant youkai exterminator. I was travelling nearby when I heard rumours of a village constantly plagued by youkai, and thought to offer my services."

"Right." It was all Awazuki could do to stop herself from sneering. "I suppose those rumours neglected to mention my sister. And myself."

"Oh, not at all. If anything, the rumours spoke highly of your clan." Hijiri's smile was so kind that if Awazuki hadn't known better, she would have thought it genuine. "I would never dare disparage your skills. It simply seems that perhaps the youkai population has grown to such an untenable size that it may take more than just two exterminators, no matter how excellent, to cull it." She bowed again. "I wish merely to offer my services, nothing more. We share a common cause, and so I hope you will accept my humble assistance."

All the villagers turned towards Awazuki.

Awazuki forced a smile on her face. The youkai was good was at this. She was going to need all of her lacklustre charisma in order to pass through this with flying colours. "Nothing would please me more. Let us work together to ensure the safety of the village."

"Oh, indeed," said Hijiri, sounding very earnest. "I hoped you would agree on that. United we will stand even more capable, and I am looking forward to working in consort with you."

Awazuki's smile began to twitch. "Likewise."

With the tension seemingly evaporating, the crowd dispersed, chatting lowly amongst themselves, leaving only Awazuki and Hijiri standing in place.

Awazuki pinned Hijiri down with her gaze, then nudged her head to the right, towards a nearby meadow. Without waiting for a response, she walked away.

* * *

As she had hoped, Hijiri followed her. Once at the meadow, Hijiri looked around to see no-one was in hearing distance, then raised her eyebrow at Awazuki. "Did you wish to speak with me?"

"You bet I do," Awazuki said quietly. A villager walked down the nearby road, casting a curious glance at the two of them, and so she did her best to keep both her face and voice level. "So, a youkai that's a youkai hunter? No camaraderie among your kind, I take it?" She narrowed her eyes. "Funny, though. Based on your actions before, I would have taken you for a stalwart defender of the youkai. Were you simply grumpy about me hunting upon your preying ground, or what is this about?"

Hijiri's look grew more closed. "That is... I attacked you because you were wreaking havoc upon innocent youkai. I couldn't remain an onlooker."

"And why would you care, if you're a youkai hunter yourself?" Awazuki grinned without mirth. "Let's cut to the chase. What you said earlier to the villagers was a load of nonsense, wasn't it?"

Hijiri flinched. "I wouldn't say that. I can assure you that I will make certain no youkai will harm them."

Awazuki snorted. "That's the Hakurei clan's responsibility already, so no need. You can take yourself and your lies and go somewhere where they're more willing to swallow a youkai acting as a nun."

Hijiri looked around nervously. "Can we discuss this somewhere further away?"

Awazuki gave her a withering glare. "Don't take me for an idiot. We're staying near witnesses." Hijiri was oddly cowed for someone who possessed such immense power, and Awazuki hoped her bravado would keep it that way.

Hijiri's expression remained mostly unchanged, but her eyes narrowed. "Very well," she said with a sigh. "Can we at least move a little further away from the houses? I'd rather not be overheard."

"As long as we're within eye sight, I can live with it."

They wandered further into the meadow, taking in the flowers of early spring peeking forth amidst lingering pockets of snow. At length, Hijiri spoke again. "Is there anything I can swear by that would make you accept what I say as true?"

To her surprise, Awazuki found herself seriously considering her words. Hijiri was the enemy, she knew that, but something about her manner and the earnestness of her expressions made Awazuki see her more as a person than she had ever seen a youkai before. No wonder the villagers hadn't spotted her ruse.

"I don't think so," she said eventually. "Youkai always lie."

Hijiri sighed. "I was afraid you would think so. Even so, l promise I am not here to harm humans."

Awazuki frowned. "Then what are you here for?"

"I am here to find a way for humans and youkai to co-exist peacefully."

Awazuki couldn't help it: she burst into laughter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this left her momentarily defenceless in front of a powerful youkai, but she couldn't help it.

"Of all the bald-faced lies..." she eventually managed, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. Then, she caught a glimpse of Hijiri's expression. It could have been carved from stone. Awazuki hesitated.

"...You're either a brilliant liar, or completely deluded," she concluded, staring at Hijiri with widening eyes.

"If you doubt me, all you have to do is give me a chance to prove myself." A hint of sarcasm shadowed Hijiri's face. "After all, it seems the villagers are rather taken with me, and from what I have understood, they do no think much of your abilities. There is always a chance they would side with me should this come to a head."

"Oh, really now?" Awazuki puffed out her chest. "I am Hakurei no Awazuki, of a lineage of renowned and powerful shrine maidens going back ten generations. My sister is regarded as the local deity here, so whatever she says, goes. And she will only have to take one look at you to know you're a youkai. Besides, I can just tell her. She'll believe me. One sentence, and your ruse is over."

Immediately afterwards, she felt cold sweat running down her neck. Once again, her pride had gotten the better of her. She just had to hope Hijiri wouldn't call her bluff and inform her that unless the entire village banded together, with Meizuki gone they could do little to stop her.

"Ah." Hijiri paused. Her eyes flitting across the meadow. "How is your sister faring?"

"Better. Much better." Of course, Hijiri was only bringing Meizuki up to remind Awazuki of the fact she owed her, but remembering that still made her hesitate. Even if Hijiri had done it to ingratiate herself to her, wouldn't it have been much easier to kill her off and be rid of both the Hakurei shrine maidens? Perhaps not everything she said was a pack of lies...

"Alright," she continued, meeting Hijiri's eyes. "Maybe I won't rat you out. Turnabout's fair play." Then, the curious envy she had felt since that night made her speak. "Although, there's something else I need to ask from you first."

The corners of Hijiri's mouth twitched. "Of course. Blackmail." She averted her gaze.

"All I said was that I wanted to ask you something! Don't jump to conclusions!" 

Hijiri studied Awazuki's expression, then nodded. "Very well. What it is?"

Awazuki fell silent, wondering how to word her request. Hijiri still got on her nerves, if for no other reason than for the bruises still lingering on her knees and for entering on their turf. At the same time, she was fascinating. She was the first youkai she had met that had shown her mercy, or compassion, or had displayed the staggering amounts of sheer power Awazuki had witnessed that night. Now, how to ask about all that...

"Actually, it's just one thing." She felt a bubble of enthusiasm in her stomach. "The way you fought... it was..." she grasped for words. "Honestly, I was awed." Hijiri merely raised her eyebrow at this, so she continued: "How did you do it? Or is it something all youkai of your kind can do?"

Hijiri blinked at her slowly. "Are you talking about my spells? You must have seen magic before, young shrine maiden."

Awazuki's eyes widened. "That was magic?" Of course, she had seen magic before, but the feats she had witnessed Hijiri perform eclipsed everything she had seen so far. She looked at Hijiri with new eyes. "I've heard of magicians before, but I never expected them to be so..." She hesitated. "Well, astounding."

Hijiri's expression softened. "You're interested in magic?"

"After seeing what I saw earlier, I sure am!" Awazuki replied, unable to hide her enthusiasm any longer.

Hijiri shook her head, but there was a ghost of a smile lingering on her face. "It will do you no good. You should continue your training as a shrine maiden." She sighed. "If that is all, I will now take my leave."

"But—" In her desperation, Awazuki grabbed Hijiri's sleeve. Hijiri turned back towards her, more astonished than angry. "I really need to learn it!"

Hijiri shook her hand free, but gently, and she didn't try to leave again. "And why is that?"

Awazuki swallowed. How could she convince her? "The thing is, I've been training as a shrine maiden since I was five, and my skills have already reached their peak. I can't get better at it, no matter how hard I try, and my sister is already years ahead of me."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but—"

"—And I need to get stronger," Awazuki interrupted, "because there is a youkai out there that nearly killed my sister and there's no way I'm strong enough to take it on as I am now. I need to find a way to defeat it. My sister is bedridden, and there is no-one else to stand up against it if it decides to attack the people here. You understand, right?" She looked Hijiri in the eye. "And it has to be me, because I want revenge for my sister. You understand that too, right?"

Hijiri looked bewildered. Awazuki realised she had over-shared again, and prayed Hijiri really was sincere against all odds. "If you're so concerned for the safety of this village, I can remain here until your sister recuperates—"

"No, I have to do it!" Awazuki realized she was yelling and lowered her voice. "I mean," she lowered her voice, but spoke no less urgently, "I have no idea how powerful that youkai is, or even where it came from. And what if there are more of them? What if you leave, and it'll be like when the oni attacked all over again?"

"I... I'm not sure I follow, but..." Hijiri furrowed her brow. She was silent for a long while. When she finally spoke, her voice was as calm as a lake on a windless day. "If I were to teach you magic, how could I be certain you wouldn't use it against me or other youkai besides your target?"

Awazuki immediately placed her hand over her heart. "I swear it on my life. And on my sister's life if it makes you feel better."

Hijiri gave her a long, scrutinising look. Awazuki matched her gaze without fear. _It's a promise._

Finally, Hijiri sighed. "Perhaps..."

Suddenly, the whole world felt brighter. "You mean it?"

"If you can solemnly swear that you will never use anything I teach you against me or any other youkai beyond the ones who have directly harmed you and your kind, I will consider it."

"Thank you!" Awazuki gasped before she could stop herself. "I mean... you have my sincere thanks," she continued, remembering her manners. "And my word, of course."

"Then it's settled. Now, this powerful youkai you speak of..." Hijiri frowned. "I am yet to gain the confidence of the youkai of this region, so I'm not privy to all their secrets. but none of the ones I've met yet have been powerful enough to match a living goddess. What do you know of them?"

"All my sister remembers is large wings."

"Wings..." Hijiri looked as flummoxed as Awazuki felt. "I will do my best to find them. We can't leave a powerful youkai willing to attack important human leaders unchecked if we're ever to achieve peace."

Awazuki grinned. "Right. That's something we can definitely agree on."

Hijiri looked surprised, then smiled back. "Indeed. Shall we meet here again tomorrow, to further discuss these matters?"

"Right. Around noon?"

"When my kind are at their weakest?" Hijiri's tone was sceptical, but her eyes belied her amusement. "Very well, noon it is. I hope we can find an accord then, Miss Hakurei."

Awazuki couldn't help but notice the lack of 'Lady', but it bothered her less than it usually did. "I hope the same. Hijiri."

To her surprise, Hijiri chuckled. "Very well. Until tomorrow, then."

And just like that, she walked back to the road and towards the village, leaving Awazuki to try and comprehend what had just happened.

Of all the outrageous things, from her making an agreement with a youkai, to her finding herself sort of liking said youkai, one fact stood on the shoulders of everything else: Hijiri had said she'd teach her magic.

The sense of troubled joy stayed with her long after she returned home, through both the day and evening, to the very moment she drifted to sleep.


	4. A Touch of Magic

"Where are you going this early, Awazuki?"

Awazuki froze mid-step, one foot on the porch, the other landing awkwardly on the courtyard. Hadn't Grandmother been fast asleep when she had checked?

Despite her pounding heart, she turned to face her, looking as nonchalant as possible. "One of the village children has a cough, and his parents asked me to come and pray for him today."

Grandmother nodded, but her wrinkly brow wrinkled ever further. "How many times have I told you not to push simple tasks to the following day?"

"Very many, Grandmother." Awazuki hesitated. Though she had instinctively lied, the fact was she couldn't keep Hijiri as a secret from her family for long. Inevitably, one of the villagers would spill the beans, and then what if Awazuki hadn't spoken of the nun before then? She might as well have paraded her around the shrine loudly introducing her as a youkai.

Grandmother frowned. "What's with that gormless expression?"

"Nothing, Grandmother!" She wired her jaw shut. She'd bring Hijiri up later, after coming up with a reason why she couldn't come to meet them. Meizuki could spot a youkai from a hundred paces, and Grandmother had been a respected shrine maiden in her day. Either one of them could sense her true nature the instant they clapped their eyes on her.

From Grandmother's intensifying glare, she realised she had stood in place lost in thought for too long.

"Um..." She ducked her head to escape the baleful look. "Is there anything Meizuki needs from the village?"

Grandmother's disapproving expression softened. "No. We are adequately equipped for now. What she needs the most right now is rest and plenty of it."

"Alright. I'll go on patrol after the prayers, so I won't be back till nightfall."

Grandmother nodded. For the first time Awazuki noticed just how exhausted she looked. "Very well. Stay safe."

_I'd better enjoy this while it lasts,_ Awazuki thought as she hurried down to the village, _It won't be nearly as easy once Meizuki gets back on her feet and she and Grandmother are free to leave the shrine._

She grimaced, spooking an on-coming villager, then blazed through Reishoumiya so fast the locals barely had time to bow.

Hijiri was waiting at the promised place, staring at the horizon with glazed eyes. She didn't notice Awazuki till she was standing right in front of her.

A warm smile spread on her face. "Good day, Miss Hakurei. I wasn't sure you would come."

"Of course I would." Awazuki found herself smiling in turn, and hastily wiped it off her face. There was being enthusiastic, and then there was being gullible prey for youkai." Look, there's something we still need to talk about if we're going to make this work."

Hijiri glanced at the nearest house. "Perhaps we could do so further away from the village? I have lodgings here, but my followers prefer to sleep outdoors, and have made a camp for themselves near the waterfall by the mountain. I believe that is far away from curious eyes and ears."

"You have foll—" Awazuki realised she was yelling, and hissed the rest of the sentence. "What do you mean you have followers?!"

"They are simply like-minded youkai who have the same cause as I do." Hijiri's smile looked sincere enough, but Awazuki kept expecting fangs to sprout from it any moment now. "I assure you they are all most respectable and inoffensive. In fact, I believe you would get along famously, putting aside certain... viewpoints."

Awazuki wrinkled her nose. "Right." The more she heard, the less she liked it. If she had understood correctly, Hijiri had just asked her to walk into the heart of youkai territory where her cronies lay in wait. "Usually, this is the part in the fairytale just before the one where the human gets devoured for trusting the youkai."

Hijiri sighed. She looked disappointed, but that could mean anything. "Is there an oath I can swear? To promise that I will never harm you, except to defend myself or my associates?"

"Swear by Buddha?" Awazuki suggested after a moment's pause. She wasn't certain Hijiri actually followed the creed, but it was all she could think of.

"Very well. I swear by Buddha and every bodhisattva that I will not allow you to come to harm today, by my hands or any others, unless it is to prevent harm to others."

Awazuki took a deep breath. It would have to do. For magic's sake. "Fine. Let's go. But not to that camp. Today, spending time with one youkai in the woods is more than enough."

"That is fine. I'm sure we can find a suitable spot for training elsewhere." Again, Hijiri smiled.

Despite her persisting misgivings, Awazuki felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders as they walked towards the woods.

* * *

She hesitated only for an instant before taking the decisive step into the forest. When she wasn't immediately mauled to death by a vengeful youkai with six-inch nails, she relaxed a little and followed Hijiri into the shade of the trees.

They walked side by side in silence for a long while, encountering neither animals nor other youkai. Due to her training, Awazuki kept her senses alert, but she had to admit the place felt much less ominous with, if not a friend, at least a reliable foe at her side. In fact, with warm morning light filtering in through the newly sprouted leaves, still small and freshly green, the woods looked almost beautiful.

"What was it that you wished to speak about?" Hijiri eventually asked, breaking her calm.

"Oh." The topic had completely slipped Awazuki's mind. "I meant to warn you, that's all. I don't know how long you can stay in the village undetected. Even if the villagers can't tell what you are, my family certainly can, and my sister won't stay bedridden forever."

"Indeed." A small crease formed between Hijiri's eyes as she side-stepped to the left to dodge a large root. "Is there any way I can persuade them that I'm acting for our common good?"

"Never. They have good reason to hate youkai. Odds are you'll have to flee Reishoumiya sooner rather than later."

Awazuki kicked a twig on her path and watched it clatter into the dry underbrush. Why had she admitted that? If Hijiri left, she'd likely never find another chance to learn magic. She ought to have kept her mouth shut and ensured Hijiri stay as long as possible, regardless of her eventual fate.

Still, Hijiri didn't appear perturbed by her words. "I shall have to keep that in mind. Thank you in any case." When Awazuki responded with nothing more than a non-committal mumble, Hijiri continued: "I will take my leave from the village and install myself here, then. If you wish, you can claim I'm some kind of a hermit who loathes other youkai hunters. Anything you believe will satisfy your family is mine."

She found herself smiling for a moment. "I'll come up with something less than flattering, then."

If Hijiri was insulted, she didn't show it. "To tell you the truth, I'm impressed by your clan's apparent perspicacity. I certainly was when you recognised my nature as soon as you did. Even people with spiritual power generally fail to see through my spells."

Awazuki shrugged. Her instincts had done most of the work, anyway. "I'm used to it, I guess. I've been a full-fledged shrine maiden for years now."

Hijiri blinked. "For years? But you look so young."

"I've fifteen summers. What of it?"

Hijiri smiled, but her eyes were sad. "Fifteen summers, and already an experienced youkai exterminator?"

"We live in a nest of youkai, remember? Sometimes I wonder whose bright idea it was to settle here." She kicked at another twig. "Then again, I suppose youkai are everywhere anyway."

"Yes." Hijiri stared into the distance. "And people fear youkai just the same here as anywhere else. It's the same circle of violence and misery no matter where we go."

The conversation dried up after this sombre proclamation. Awazuki stomped down the footpath they had found, feeling very tired despite the sunlight.

It was Hijiri who eventually broke the silence. "I have spoken with some of the local youkai, asking questions about a youkai with wings." The corners of her mouth curled up into a bitter smile. "Unfortunately, it appears no-one here trusts me yet. All I received in response was evasion and sullen looks."

"Oh." Awazuki took several steps forward before speaking up again. "I didn't think you'd actually look into it."

Hijiri slowed her pace and gave Awazuki a very serious look. "I care for all life, not simply for that of youkai. A powerful youkai attacking humans like that...it is just as detrimental to my goals as it is to yours."

Awazuki made no reply. Either Hijiri was a damned good liar — _she is a damned good liar,_ she reminded herself, _if her spiel at the village was anything to go by_ — or she genuinely meant what she said. And despite everything, she wanted to believe it was the latter.

"Ah." Hijiri paused entirely. "This looks like a promising spot."

They had come across a small clearing, with soft grass and stalks of bamboo growing by a thin stream that ended in a small lake not far from where they stood.

Hijiri located a nearby tree stump and sat down. Awazuki followed in suit, perching herself on a mossy rock, then looked expectantly at Hijiri.

However, it looked like Hijiri wasn't ready to start spilling out the secrets of magic just yet. "Before we begin, there's one more thing we need to discuss."

Awazuki suppressed a groan. "Is there another catch?"

"Not as such." Hijiri flashed her a tight-lipped smile that vanished as soon as it had appeared. "I'd like to tell you about how I became a youkai."

The meaning of the words was obvious, but it was only after several heartbeats that Awazuki began to digest them.

"You—" She halted. Saying it out loud would just make her look stupid.

Either way, Hijiri caught her meaning just from the one word. "Yes, I was a human once. A mortal nun, as you probably surmised. As for why I am no longer one..." the corners of her mouth twitched. "To make a long story short, I experimented with magic too far, and too often."

Awazuki's stomach lurched.

"You mean..." she began, unsure how to continue. Had this endeavour been a waste of time from the beginning?

"It's not the inevitable fate of those who study magic, if that is your question? The magic I studied was specifically the kind intended to change me, to make myself younger, more powerful, capable of resisting encroaching death. When I cast my final spell as a human, I had an inkling of what was about to happen, and could have chosen otherwise."

She fixed a gentle gaze on Awazuki. "Since then, I have spoken to many youkai who were once human. In almost every case, the transformation occurred after extended exposure to very strong magic, or one decisive, extremely powerful dose of it. Simply studying magic, especially if you use it on others and not on yourself, should let you to retain your humanity for as long as you wish."

Awazuki let go of a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. "That's good."

"However, exposure of magic can still alter your appearance. For instance, my hair took this hue while I was still human." Hijiri's fingers lightly brushed against two-toned tresses. "Such mutations are not uncommon, and can be severe. For instance, there was a magician in Nara who grew horns and had his skin turned blue."

Awazuki shuddered.

Hijiri nodded. "I can all but guarantee you will not become a youkai, but I cannot guarantee you won't change in other ways. If this prospect troubles you, I must ask you to reconsider. Otherwise, we may begin."

Awazuki prodded at the moss, avoiding Hijiri's eyes. Some part of her had expected a snag: it had all been too convenient, too simple. And yet...

"Could you..." She swallowed. "Could you show me another spell first?"

Hijiri nodded. She closed her eyes, and chanting lightly under her breath, brought her hand forward. A pale white glow enveloped her hand, and slowly spread up her arm. Hijiri opened her eyes, and with her glowing arm, picked a spruce cone from the ground. She placed it between her thumb and index finger, and closing her eyes again, lightly pressed down.

The cone exploded into splinters.

Awazuki stared. Then, her earlier enthusiasm bubbled back up. To hell with risks.

"Let's do it. Right now."

Hijiri smiled. "Very well. Follow my lead."

She moved away from the stump and sat instead onto the ground, crossing her legs with practised ease. She placed her hands on her thighs with their palms up. "The first thing you must learn is how to meditate."

"Huh? What does that have to do with magic?" She couldn't think of anything further removed from the kinds of lights and explosions she had looked forward to.

Hijiri's eyes fluttered half open. "Even if it isn't Buddhist magic, you must learn to empty your mind and concentrate."

Awazuki groaned, but she followed Hijiri's lead. Her legs wouldn't bend the required way, so she forced them to a rough approximation, hoping it was good enough, and closed her eyes.

Thinking nothing should have been the easiest thing in the world, but to her great annoyance, Awazuki found every thought she managed to dismiss replaced by two new ones. First it was the uneven surface she was sitting on, then memories of her mother, frail and faint like a reflection on the surface of a lake, ready to mutate with the slightest breeze. Then, her mind drifted to Hijiri's earlier mention of allies, who she pictured as a gang of bloodthirsty oni, and she recalled that panic-filled winter day when the oni had attacked, and her sister's miracle following it. That in turn made her think of her first encounter with Hijiri, and her magic. Had Hijiri really been a human once? How old was she, really?

"You're not concentrating." Hijiri's voice was gentle and faint, but still broke what little concentration she had like a poorly played note in a beautiful melody.

She shook her head in irritation, like a dog trying to dry itself. "I can't do it."

"The very first step is to relax. Focus on something simple."

Awazuki rolled her eyes, then readjusted her position and tried again. Something simple... her heart was beating heavily, and she chose to focus on that. She couldn't feel it properly, not without placing her hand on a vein, but now that she paid attention to it, she could follow its insistent rhythm, steady, strong, never tiring.

_I'm not relaxing,_ she thought, but she ignored herself and kept her mind on her heartbeat. She was no longer sure how much time had passed, but her eyelids were heavy, and if it hadn't been for her heart, she would've felt all time had stopped.

"That's much better," Hijiri said quietly, waking her from her reverie. Awazuki shook her head rapidly and blinked, mostly back to normal if still sluggish. Though she had a feeling she hadn't done it right, she felt strangely relaxed.

After a moment, she spoke. "This isn't what I had in mind."

"I'm afraid this was important."

"Fine. Can we try something else now?"

"Yes." Hijiri got up and re-seated herself closer to Awazuki. "I have the feeling you would rather learn something small immediately than wait for something more spectacular."

Awazuki perked up. "As long as we get to the spectacular later."

Hijiri smiled. "Of course. Now, I would like you to hold out your hands and empty your mind the way you did just now. After you manage that, I would like you to imagine a candle flame, as clearly as you can."

"Fine." Awazuki closed her eyes and eased into thinking of nothing but her heart. As soon as she had done so, she pictured a candle — an old-fashioned beeswax candle rather than a pine gum one, she noted to her amusement before hastily dismissing the thought as a distraction — a short, tapering candle, with its wick ever so slowly bending with the weight of the flame, a small, warm, flickering light, so frail and yet so hungry...

A sudden, curious warmth spread over her palms, and she opened her eyes wide. She only just spotted a sphere of light floating above her palms before it evaporated, leaving her feeling suddenly chilled but also amazed.

She stared at Hijiri. "Did I do it?" She hadn't just imagined it, had she?

Hijiri nodded. She said nothing.

"What?" Awazuki asked, her mounting excitement fading. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all." Hijiri's stony expression broke, revealing a bright if somewhat perplexed smile. "I simply wasn't expecting you to succeed on your very first try. It took me until my fifth."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I see now why you were so eager to learn magic. You have the aptitude for it."

Awazuki glowed with an inner pride. It was as if the sun had left the sky and come to reside in her instead. "I always was a quick study."

She stood up, too pleased to stay still, only for her knees to buckle under her. She landed back on the ground, stunned. "Woah."

Hijiri's smile returned, with a hint of mischief Awazuki hadn't seen on her face before. "There is no need to fret. When I cast my first spell — a fortifying spell, if you can imagine — the moment its effects faded away, I found myself on my back, and couldn't have returned to my feet but for the aid of two younger nuns. Humans aren't designed for magic the same way youkai are, but with practice, you will soon find casting as simple as breathing. Though perhaps that should wait till another day."

Awazuki nodded, her brow furrowed. Already, her legs had stopped shaking, but she felt somewhat queasy. "How much practice will it take?"

"I'm afraid I cannot say. You're the first person I have ever taught, and as such I only have myself as a measuring stick."

The proclamation gave Awazuki pause. As bizarre as their arrangement was, she had never assumed she was Hijiri's first pupil.

"Thank you," she said, with urgent earnestness.

Hijiri's surprised, but pleased smile followed her for the entire duration of her stay in the village and all the way back home.

* * *

"Meizuki?" Awazuki whispered into the dark room through the chink in the door.

Just as she decided her sister was asleep and turned to leave, a faint voice replied from the floor. "Awazuki?"

Hastily, trying to be quiet, Awazuki opened the door and fell to her knees by her sister's futon. Without a second thought she touched her forehead. It felt reassuringly cool. "How are you? Looks like your fever's gone."

In the dim light, Meizuki's smile was only barely visible. "Grandmother said I should be well enough to walk in a week now, but I think I could already do it now."

"It didn't go so well when you tried it yesterday," Awazuki reminded her. She leaned back, the memory of Meizuki at the brink of death all too fresh on her mind. To think she was breathing at all, let alone almost back to health...dangerous or not, magic was as powerful as miracles.

_And Hijiri said I have the aptitude for it._

"Was everything alright in Reishoumiya?" Meizuki asked.

"Huh? Oh, sure. Better than expected, really."

"That's good." Meizuki closed her eyes. "I knew you'd do well."

Awazuki grinned, but not without guilt. "Like your sister would let you down." She patted her hand. "I'll take care of everything, okay? You just rest."

She rose to leave, but Meizuki grasped her by the sleeve.

"Could you..." she began, then hesitated and let go. "No, I'm sorry. It's nothing."

Awazuki sat back down. "Clearly it's something. Come on, out with it. Your big sister's all ears."

Meizuki shook her head, but after a long pause she finally mumbled: "Well, I was thinking...only it's ridiculous...that you used to tell me.." she broke off again, turning as red as an oni's lantern. "No, please. It really is nothing."

"Tell you..." Understanding dawned. "You want me to tell you a bedtime story?"

Meizuki's blush deepened. "Please ignore it. I know we're far too old for it. I shouldn't have even thought of it." She gave Awazuki a pained look. "Please, just go."

Awazuki considered her options, then put on her kindest face. "Nope, if you want a story, you're getting one. I haven't forgotten my promise, you know. Besides," she added, "no-one will ever find out."

Meizuki didn't look entirely convinced, but her shoulders relaxed. "I don't think this really falls under it. And Grandmother might hear you."

"Sure it does." Awazuki leaned in closer and gave Meizuki a conspirational nod. "And tell you what? If Grandmother overhears and asks about it, you can say it was all my idea and blame me for treating you like a kid."

"That wouldn't be right," Meizuki whispered back, but her eyes sparkled.

Awazuki grinned and sat down more comfortably. "Okay, let's see..." She did her best to recollect the fanciful tales she had entertained Meizuki with back when they had shared a room. "Once upon a time, in the kingdom of the stars, there was a humble horseman in the service of the great empress of the skies."

Meizuki lied back down and sighed in contentment, allowing the words to wash over her. "I really liked this one."

"Good," Awazuki glanced at the door, though she didn't particularly care if she was overheard or not, before continuing with her story. "The horseman was known by all for his kindness and dignity of spirit. Birds flocked around him and his horse as he rode across the fields, perching on his shoulders, and no matter where he went, he was greeted with a smile. Then, one day, the empress sent for him with an urgent request..."

By the time she reached the end of the story, with the horseman rewarded by the empress for his selflessness and honesty, Meizuki was half asleep, her hand bunching up the fabric of her white kimono.

Awazuki brushed her hair off her forehead. Meizuki had assumed her role as the Hakurei Shrine Maiden so fully she rarely saw her as she saw her now, still little more than a child who needed a big sister by her side.

She exited the room and closed the door as silently as possible. She then leaned against the opposite wall, taking a deep breath, all the exhaustions of the day finally catching up to her. She'd need plenty of sleep if she wanted to cast more spells the following day.

The last thing she thought of after stumbling into bed, a faint notion just before drifting into slumber that she would no longer remember the following morning, was how Meizuki would feel if she learned what her sister wished to become.


	5. Of Bitter Tea and Flying Rabbits

The globe of light flickered once, then began dancing on Awazuki's palm. It was soon joined by a second, then a third, until an entire cavalcade of lights bounced around in perfect synchronicity like orderly fireflies.

Awazuki raised her arm and smiled as she directed the lights to curl around her wrist as a glowing bracelet. She raised her other hand and made them hop from one bare arm to another, one by one, snuffing them after they had made the leap.

After the last light died, she looked up. "Good enough?"

Hijiri nodded. Despite the summer heat, her dark robes were as voluminous and immaculate as ever. "More than good enough, Miss Awazuki. You've mastered the spell."

The warmth from her inner glow of satisfaction matched that from the sunlight. "So, you'll finally teach me bigger spells?"

Hijiri smiled. "I should have known that's all you're after."

"After three months of nothing but summoning lights? Of course I want to get to the exciting parts!" Still, Awazuki grinned. Though the only spell she had learned so far had only been flashy in the most literal sense, honing it had been a journey.

She stood up straight and stretched herself, then checked to see if the ribbons holding her sleeves up were still secure. Summer had began in earnest some weeks before, and the burgeoning nature and sweet floral scents of the forest were accompanied by blazing heat. She had already discarded all but her hakama and undershirt, figuring it hardly mattered if youkai saw her in a state of undress. Her discarded robes fluttered like butterfly wings on the tree branch she had left them on every time a merciful breeze brushed by. She'd have to make sure to carefully comb them from any pine needles and other gunk afterwards, or face the scalding stares of her grandmother.

Hijiri continued to smile. "When I began my studies, during the first six months I didn't cast a single spell."

"Seriously? How were you going to defend yourself if someone found out and decided you had to die?"

"Believe it or not, that is rarely a pressing concern at a temple."

"Right." Though she had listened to Hijiri's stories about her past and done her best to understand meditation — it turned out she had had the entirely wrong idea and was supposed to be aware of her entire body rather than shut it away — Awazuki still didn't understand Buddhism. "I guess Reishoumiya has been a pretty big departure from that?"

"I'd rather say it's been surprisingly peaceful. The local youkai have been lukewarm to our presence. Ichirin has built a decent rapport with a few of them, but most eye us with certain wariness or else ignore us."

"Guess you haven't met any of the really big troublemakers so far."

"Such as?"

"Oni. They come down from the mountain sometimes." In reality, they had only done so once in living memory, but one time was more than enough. "You're the one expected to deal with them from now on. You did introduce yourself as an oni specialist, after all."

Hijiri smiled sheepishly. "That I did."

"Are you really an oni specialist?"

She had the decency to cough. "A slight exaggeration, perhaps."

"I thought nuns weren't supposed to lie," Awazuki said teasingly, but her heart wasn't in it. It had been seven years since the incident, and she no longer thought about it daily. Somehow, that made the feelings surrounding the memory rawer, more intense.

Hijiri must have noticed the dip in her mood. "I have dealt with them before, that much is true. Thus I know that when you can't gain their confidence by joining them for a drink, the next best thing is challenging one to an arm-wrestling contest."

She had said arm-wrestling, but Awazuki pictured a full-blown wrestling match: Hijiri, with the hem of her robes tucked into her belt, squaring off against a hulking oni. The image made her smile.

Her mirth faded. "Speaking of troublemakers..."

"Ah, yes. I'm afraid I have no news regarding the youkai with wings. Ichirin has been probing her new acquaintances, but they are either ignorant of this particular youkai or else unwilling to speak up."

Awazuki nodded, frowning. She had half expected this response, but it didn't make hearing it any less fun.

Still, perhaps there was a silver lining. No news meant the youkai with wings hadn't attacked anyone else yet, and it also meant she had more time to learn magic with which to destroy them once they did rear their ugly head.

With that in mind, she cleared her brow and focused on Hijiri. "So, it's time for a new spell?"

Hijiri nodded, but before she could actually begin to teach Awazuki, Ichirin, in robes identical to Hijiri's except for the cowl hiding her purple hair, and followed by the massive cloud youkai Unzan as always, rushed over. "Lady Byakuren!"

Hijiri stood up as Ichirin halted before her. "What is it?"

"Uh," Ichirin glanced at Awazuki before continuing. "Nazrin came back with a message from the coast. They desperately need your help." She continued in a hushed tone, so low Awazuki could barely catch it. "It's Murasa."

"I see. I will leave at once."

"Eh?" Awazuki couldn't help but stare as Hijiri dusted off her robes, clearly intent on doing exactly as she had said. "What about my lesson?"

Hijiri turned to flash her another smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Awazuki. I will make it up to you once I return, but every moment I dawdle lives are at risk."

"Oh." Awazuki sighed. With some reluctance, she undid the ribbons holding up her sleeves. "When you will be back?"

"A week from now, perhaps two." Hijiri turned to Ichirin before Awazuki could protest. "I trust you to relay the news to Shou if Nazrin hasn't reached her yet."

"Of course, Lady Byakuren."

Hijiri nodded, then chanted something under her breath. A dim white glow, first barely visible in the sunlight and slowly growing brighter, engulfed her entire body. She stepped forward, and the moment Awazuki blinked, she was far away, barely visible between the trees. Another blink, and not a trace of her remained.

"Woah," said Awazuki without meaning to.

"Amagimi Hijiri's Air Scroll," Ichirin explained, nodding. "Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

She turned her full attention to Awazuki now, and managed what was only a slightly awkward smile. "Since you're here anyway, would you like to join us for tea?"

Awazuki stared back, considering her options. She had never been alone with another youkai besides Hijiri — well, _alone_ was a strong word here, as the massive face of Unzan the nyuudou hovered right behind Ichirin — and though she would scarcely admit it, the prospect unnerved her. Then again, though she had only exchanged a few words with Ichirin in the past, she had come across as friendly and more approachable than Shou, the only other follower of Hijiri's Awazuki had met.

She nodded. "Thanks. I'm parched."

She retrieved her robes from the branch and, placing them over her arm, followed Ichirin the short distance to Hijiri's camp.

The camp stood at an unremarkable clearing, dominated by a large firepit. Various bundles and spare clothes were strewn around, and along with the straw mats laid under a large maple tree and the pails of water and huge pot by the fire, they gave the spot a very lived-in look.

Ichirin was clearly at home; she immediately went for the pails and whistled to herself as she filled the pot and placed it above the fire.

"So," she sat down on one of the logs strategically placed around the fire, Unzan settling down behind her, and gestured at another one. "Have a seat."

Awazuki sat gingerly, placing her unwanted clothes next to her. She gave Ichirin a quick smile, which was met in kind, then tried to come up with something to say. She came up blank.

"Uh," she finally began as the silence stretched on. "Where did Hijiri go, exactly?"

If Ichirin was bothered by Awazuki's lack of formal address towards Hijiri, she didn't show it. "To speak with one of our allies. She's suffered a lot, and she's finding it difficult to... adjust to Lady Byakuren's teachings."

"Right." So, some kind of a murderous lunatic? _Fantastic._ "She knows some pretty colourful people, huh?"

Ichirin laughed. "You can say that again! I mean, when she first told us she was mentoring a local youkai hunter, I—"

Her words and good mood didn't so much peter out as strike against a stone wall. She gave Awazuki an awkward look. "I mean..."

Awazuki found herself laughing, both at her current expression, and what she imagined had been her expression when Hijiri broke the news. "I can't blame you. It _is_ weird, isn't it?"

Ichirin's shoulders relaxed. "A bit." Her cheer returned as she busied herself with some small containers behind her log. "The tea we have right now isn't the greatest, but hopefully it's good enough."

"I'm sure it's great, Miss, uh, Kumoi..."

At this, Ichirin turned back towards her, bundle of tea in hand, her smile as bright as Awazuki had ever seen it. "Ichirin's fine. No-one's called me Kumoi for ages."

"Okay, Ichirin. And you can call me Awazuki in return if you'd like."

Ichirin leaned forward to check the water. As she pulled back, she exchanged a look with Unzan, still smiling. "Awazuki it is."

Awazuki nodded, mostly to herself. It was the first time she was truly on first-name basis with anyone but her immediate family. To think it was with a youkai...

"So..." Her eyes flitted to Unzan, then back to Ichirin. "How have you been settling down here?"

"Very well, thank you. It was a bit tense at first, but now the local youkai don't mind our presence. I think." Ichirin exchanged another glance with Unzan, then lowered her voice. "Don't tell Lady Byakuren this, but I'm a bit worried. She says my attempts at making friends are going fine, but she doesn't seem to understand how many of them give me the cold shoulder from the start. It's almost like they can smell that I'm a jinyou and resent me for it."

"Jinyou..." Awazuki blinked as she recalled what the term meant. "Wait, you were a human too?"

Ichirin's expression sunk further. She worked on making the tea in silence before straightening her back and finally continuing. "When I befriended Unzan, my friends and family began to fear and avoid me. They called me a demon child, and people I didn't know sometimes threw stones at me. So I stayed away and travelled with Unzan. Then, one day, I woke up and realised I was a youkai, too."

"Oh." Awazuki stared at the fire. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, it's fine now. I have a new home, after all, and true friends." Ichirin smiled at Unzan. "Anyway, that's why I started following Lady Byakuren. If she hopes to create a world where humans and youkai can live together in peace, I want to be there and help her in any way I can."

Awazuki stared. There was nothing but sincerity on Ichirin's face.

"I hope you succeed," she said mildly. She felt the cause hopeless: why would humans ever willingly cavort with their predators?

_Then again,_ she thought darkly as Ichirin removed the kettle from the fire, _here I am, a lone human, about to have tea with a youkai. Unless..._

"How long did you travel with Unzan before you became a youkai?" she asked, careful to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

"Oh..." Ichirin was too busy with the tea to turn and look at her. "Over a decade. And it only happened after I stopped spending time with other humans altogether."

"Right." It wasn't exactly reassuring, any more than Hijiri's tale had been, but she could live with it. She accepted the earthenware cup Ichirin offered, and breathed in the steam. It had a sharp, pungent odour. Ichirin hadn't been kidding when she said it wasn't the greatest of teas.

Ichirin settled back down and smiled at her again. Even knowing she had once been a human, Awazuki found it curious how relaxed she felt. Even with Hijiri, there was always a certain edge, a lingering doubt that kept her ready to strike back and flee should it come to it. If more youkai were like Ichirin...

She took a sip of the tea. She then immediately spat it out.

Maybe if more youkai were like Ichirin, they'd use poison rather than claws and fangs to kill.

To her credit, Ichirin was concerned. "What's wrong?" She gave her cup a suspicious sniff, then took the most minute of sips. Her face turned an interesting shade of green.

Awazuki was busy coughing out the last drops of the noxious liquid behind her log when someone began to titter somewhere above. With watering eyes, she turned towards the treetops.

On the highest branch of the big maple tree sat a little girl. Her short black hair was matted and full of twigs and grass, and the plain white tunic she wore was beyond filthy. Still, beneath the grime, she exuded confidence and good health. A pair of long white ears sat atop her head, and her bright red eyes, visible even at the distance due to the way they gleamed in the sunlight, were fixed on Awazuki and Ichirin, as was her devious grin.

Ichirin muttered something that sounded like a swear under her breath. "Tewi..."

When Awazuki shot her a questioning glance, she continued. "A local youkai. We've been trying to get along with her, but..." she sighed. "No matter what, she does as she pleases." She turned to glare venom at Tewi. "I hope you stole the real tea instead of throwing it away, because bringing it back straight away is the only way you can keep me from throttling you."

Tewi responded to the threat with more giggling. She crouched up on the branch, then carelessly manoeuvred herself onto a lower one. "Don't mind me. I just came to take a look at the traitor." With that, she trained her eyes on Awazuki.

Awazuki bounced to her feet. First the revolting tea, and now insults? "I'd keep your mouth shut, youkai. Oath or no oath, I'll kick your ass if need be."

Tewi rolled her eyes. "And make an enemy of your only potential allies? I don't think so. Let's face it, the humans will never take you back, so you'd better play nice with us." Her smile widened, revealing an alarming set of teeth that belonged neither in a human nor rabbit mouth.

"Unzan," Ichirin said. The nyuudou rose threateningly upwards.

Tewi paid him no mind: she was still entirely focused on Awazuki. "You made the right choice, traitor." Her tone was almost pleasant. "All the humans will be gone as soon as the barrier breaks."

Awazuki blinked, an unexpected trill of fear running up her spine. "The what?"

Tewi tittered again, like a carefree child. "This is why your kind should write things down."

Ichirin too had gotten up. "Tewi, exactly what—"

But Tewi had evidently lost interest in the discussion. With a cheerful wave, she bounced back onto the upper branch, then leapt on a another branch away from Awazuki's view. Unzan descended back to ground level, looking solemn.

Ichirin crouched to pick up the cup she had dropped. "Please don't take what she said to heart. She's a mean-spirited little git, that's all. I'll never understand why the other youkai here listen to her."

"Never mind that now. What's the barrier she spoke of?"

Ichirin discarded the cup behind the log, her brow furrowing. "I wish I knew. No-one else has mentioned it, so maybe it's something she made up on the spot. I should have some actual tea here somewhere, if you still want some."

"It's fine." Awazuki helped herself to a bit of hot water to wipe out the taste of Tewi's gunk, then handed her cup back to Ichirin. "I need to get back home and ask Grandmother some questions." Even if the odds Tewi wasn't making it all up from whole cloth were one to a hundred, she had to be sure.

She swiped her robes back on and was already half gone from the clearing when she remembered her manners and turned. "Thanks for your hospitality!"

Ichirin straightened her back and waved at her. Unzan did, too, a sudden, enormous hand emerging from the fluffy pink clouds. "Come back whenever you want!"

* * *

Awazuki blazed down the trail, her mind aflame. The more she thought about it, the more she began to believe Tewi had spoken of something real. She racked her brain for any potential barriers as she rushed through the village, but came up as blank as she had when Tewi had first brought it up.

She shook her head as she hurried past the jizou and up the path. Grandmother would know. If there really was a barrier somewhere nearby, no matter how ancient, she would know.

She had only just made it to the foot of the stone steps to the shrine when Meizuki collided with her, rushing down so fast she was almost falling. They collapsed on the ground.

"Ugh!" Awazuki took a second to make sure she had no broken bones before turning towards her sister, groaning but mercifully unharmed. "What are you doing? You should be resting."

Meizuki was paler than ever, with red splotches all over her usually pristine skin. Her hair, usually finely combed and let loose when not youkai-hunting, was tangled and stuck out on all sides. "It's..." she stammered, "It's..."

Awazuki helped her to her feet and held her steady. "Okay, deep breaths."

Meizuki collected herself for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing in and out. Then, her eyes shot back open, round and staring like an owl's. "It's Grandmother! She was fetching water from the well, and..."

Awazuki felt a knot in her stomach. "She fell in?"

"No!" Meizuki lowered her head, her fingers digging through Awazuki's sleeves and into the flesh of her upper arms. "But she collapsed, and won't answer, and I can't move her inside on my own and—"

Awazuki let Meizuki go on, her mind reeling. Grandmother was old, but she had always been in such good health that Awazuki had never thought she'd fall into decline. Had nursing Meizuki really taken such a toll on her, or was it simply her time?

She shook herself. No. It wasn't her time. Not yet.

She focused on Meizuki, still horror-stricken, but calmer. "We can carry her together. Let's go!"

Meizuki held onto her wrist the entire way back, out of breath but determined to keep up with Awazuki. Awazuki's own thoughts were already at whatever would await her at the shrine, all else forgotten.


	6. Colours, Coming and Going

The thunderous clouds finally parted the exact moment Awazuki finished sweeping the courtyard. Annoyed, she shook her head, spraying droplets everywhere, then returned indoors.

She discarded her shoes as quietly as she could and tip-toed into the main hall, sitting down by the table to fan herself, and to think. A deathly silence had enveloped the shrine, one so profound she dared not break it. To think how lively their small household had been before the shadow of illness had fallen on it.

As she mused, Meizuki slid the door open, silent as a cat. The recent misfortunes had taken their toll on her beauty, stunning though it still was: her face was haggard, and the black rings under her eyes deeper and more pronounced than ever.

"She wants to speak with you," she whispered.

Awazuki got up at once. "She's awake, then?"

Meizuki nodded, then hesitated. "She's... very tired."

"I won't keep her long, then." She gave Meizuki's shoulder a comforting squeeze as she passed, though she doubted it would do much.

Grandmother was staring up at the ceiling of the former storage room turned into bedroom, the only room in the building at all protected from the sweltering heat. The lines on her face, pronounced as far back as Awazuki could remember, had become deeply etched into her leathery skin, like mountain streams slowly eroding through stone. Though she and Meizuki had taken painstaking care to keep her clean and change her clothes twice a day the entire week she had lain there, the room still smelled of death.

Awazuki knelt down, feeling hollow. As ancient as Grandmother was, she had always been so sprightly, so alive Awazuki had half expected her to still be bustling along when she herself had one foot in the grave. Now, she was little more than a shrivelled husk.

Still, her eyes were as clear as ever as they narrowed on Awazuki.

"Awazuki." Her voice, though thinner, still commanded some of its old force.

"Yes, Grandmother?" Could Hijiri perform another miracle once she returned to restore Grandmother to life, or had the spell she had created for Meizuki been for injuries only? There was a good chance it was simply Grandmother's time to pass, and that tampering with it would bring a curse upon the entire clan.

Grandmother turned her eyes back towards the ceiling. "You know as well as I do that this is my end. After that, you will be the eldest member of the main family."

"Yes, Grandmother." It was an odd thought.

"You ought to marry as soon as possible. I have been lenient about it till now, but it simply cannot wait. Look for a suitable match if you can, but be wed before the end of next year."

Awazuki supressed a sigh. "Yes, Grandmother." It was a good thing she hadn't asked her to promise it: the idea of marriage filled her with dread. "Wouldn't it be enough if—"

"Don't talk back. This is very important, you impertinent brat."

Awazuki fell silent and averted her eyes.

"Whatever your flaws, Awazuki, you have always been a reliable older sister. You must remain so. The future of the Hakurei clan depends on Meizuki."

Awazuki found herself nodding despite herself, and quickly stopped. But then, there seemed little point in arguing. "Right."

"Protect her. Protect the power she has. Ensure nothing like what happened in the spring happens again."

"I can keep taking care of the duties beyond the shrine if you think that would be for the best."

"Yes, I've already spoken with her about it. She understands that she must stay safe, no matter what."

Well, that would make it easier to make sure Meizuki and Hijiri wouldn't meet. Still, Awazuki felt no relief. There was a more pressing concern, one she had mulled over in her head for a week now. It was now or never. "Grandmother, are there any barriers around here?"

Grandmother's face, which had already been nothing but a series of lines, furrowed further. "Barriers?"

Her voice was so distant Awazuki almost immediately dismissed her question as folly, but then Grandmother continued. "Yes, the seal..."

Awazuki leaned closer. "So there is something like that?" Why had she never heard of this before?

Grandmother closed her eyes. "The border between our world and the next has always been weaker here. Our ancestors... to save us from being overrun..."

Her voice faltered to silence, but Awazuki had gotten the gist of it. "And what if it were broken?"

Grandmother's eyes shot open. "It cannot break! It was made to withstand the attack of every single youkai. To break it would mean..."

"How about reinforcing it?"

"That is more than any single person can do. Our family is tasked with watching over the seal, and to seek help re-creating it should the impossible happen. Its creation took too many lives..."

Despite the scorching heat, Awazuki shuddered. "Where is it? I don't think anyone's checked it in ages."

"My legs can no longer carry me there." Grandmother's eyes fell shut once more. "You know the path, Himiko."

All moisture escaped Awazuki's mouth. She got silently on her feet. "Rest well, Grandmother."

"Protect the clan," Grandmother mumbled, her voice fainter as she approached slumber. "That's the only way..."

* * *

Still lost in thought, Awazuki all but bumped into Meizuki in the hallway.

"Are you alright?" Meizuki asked, steadying her. "You look like—"

She breathes in sharply, her eyes darting towards the shut door behind which Grandmother lay.

"No, no." Awazuki raised her hand to calm her. "She's fine. Just resting."

Meizuki nodded, relief wiping the horror from her face. She smiled and wrapped her arm around Awazuki's. "Come. I'll do your hair for you."

Awazuki was about to protest — who cared about her stupid hair when there was a potential jailbreak in the wilderness — but Meizuki's grip was so insistent and her eyes so mournful she followed anyway. Grandmother had said to protect the clan, and protecting her sister's happiness, slight as it was, was a part of it.

Her mind was aflame as Meizuki sat her down on a cushion and began untangling her hair, humming a soft tune under her breath. Unless Grandmother was completely lost to reality, there really was a barrier of some description out there. But where? Not once during her excursions to the woods had she ever encountered anything resembling one. How far away was it?

She glowered at the wall as Meizuki encountered a particularly stubborn knot and clicked her tongue as she began to work on it. Their mother had known, and had no doubt meant to tell Awazuki once she got old enough, but since she had never returned after her bargain with the Deva of the Mountain, she was better off asking the birds in the forest for clues. She would have to try to pry the information out of Grandmother, but if she was in a state where she mistook her grand-daughter for daughter, one many years dead...

"Red or white?"

Awazuki returned to reality. "Red, please."

Without further words, Meizuki reached for the adornments she had laid on the floor next to them and tied a simple red ribbon around Awazuki's hair.

Awazuki reached to touch the ready ponytail, then turned to smile at Meizuki. "Thanks. Turn around and I'll do yours."

Meizuki was wearing a peculiar little smile, her eyes downcast. "You don't have to. No-one's going to see it anyway."

Awazuki let go of her hair and placed the hand instead on Meizuki's shoulder. "You'll feel better afterwards."

She pronounced it as a fact when it was a mere hope, but Meizuki turned obligingly all the same. Awazuki picked up the comb Meizuki had set down and got to work. "How about a braid?"

Meizuki perked up. "Oh, yes!"

When they had been little, Meizuki had been hell to groom: she had wriggled and protested and pulled in every which direction. Now she stood still, the perfect mannequin, almost like a doll. The simple, mechanical work gave Awazuki more time to think.

The seal, or barrier, or whatever she wanted to call it, had to be relatively close by. Combing the environs around Reishoumiya was generally out of the question, even for a shrine maiden: hanging in the woods too much, especially near the mountain, was sure to attract the attention of youkai, something she had already inadvertently done...

However, she thought as she finished smoothing out Meizuki's hair, selected one of the white silk ribbons, and began braiding her curls, it was only reckless to the point of suicidal if she had to do it alone. As it were, she could always ask...

* * *

"Hijiri!"

She had spent the barest minimum of time in the village: since the amount of youkai attacks had been cut to next to nothing, the villagers' frowns had mostly turned to approving nods and ready interest in talking to her, which she tried to keep from overwhelming her by explaining it was all the time she spend patrolling the forest that made the difference. Therefore, she had found herself free to rush into the woods in record time, and was soon by Hijiri's camp.

Her joy at seeing Hijiri had finally returned came to a sudden halt as she saw another, unfamiliar figure hovering near the camp, its back turned towards her.

Hijiri, on her part, acted like nothing was amiss. "It's good to see you again, Miss Awazuki."

"Yeah, likewise." She tried focusing on Hijiri, but her eyes kept being diverted to the stranger. "Who—"

Just as she said that, the stranger turned towards them. Her remaining words got stuck in her throat.

The stranger was ghastly pale, with ashen skin and long, pitch black hair with a fringe so unkempt it fell on her eyes. Her clothes were old and worn, once white, but yellowed with age and what Awazuki could only presume was algae. She was dripping with water, like she had just taken a plunge into the river, and carried a ladle in her right hand.

As soon as she saw Awazuki staring at her, she shot her an icy glare and moved away from the camp, soon vanishing deeper into the woods.

"Woah," said Awazuki.

"Ah, yes," Hijiri said quietly, right by her shoulder. Awazuki turned, flustered, to see Hijiri standing next to her, looking rather sombre. "She's Minamitsu Murasa, the most recent addition to our little entourage. I apologise on her behalf: she doesn't really get along with humans at the present time."

"It's not like I haven't already gotten used to that sentiment among youkai," Awazuki kept staring at the spot where Minamitsu had vanished. She had to be the more volatile ally of Hijiri's Ichirin had mentioned, didn't she? "What sort of a youkai is she, exactly? She felt like..."

"She's the ghost of a shipwreck. She was trapped at the ocean, unable to find any sort of escape or respite, for decades after decades, with nothing to do but to give in to desperation and sink every ship that approached her, hoping that sinking enough would bring her peace." Hijiri's eyes were full of compassion as she smiled gently in the direction Minamitsu had disappeared. "She's still acclimatising to being able to sail wherever she wishes, now."

"Huh." As frightening as Minamitsu looked, Awazuki felt a twinge of pity for her. She imagined being trapped in a rotting boat, unable to rest, unable to breathe ever again. A final death seemed far more preferable to a hollow existence as a ghost. "You saved her, then?"

Hijiri smiled modestly. "I merely raised her ship from the ocean and bestowed it upon her."

Awazuki gave her a sardonic look. "Raising a ship from the bottom of the ocean counts as 'merely' now?" She tried to imagine the scene in her mind: Minamitsu, chained to the sea, staring ahead with empty eyes; Hijiri, her hair waving in the wind like ocean waves, standing in the bow with her arms spread to her sides, using her tremendous magic to raise a huge ship from the very depths, the spectators gawking... then, the vision shimmered away as she became aware of an incongruity. "You said that she sunk all approaching ships. How did you convince her to let yours stay afloat?"

"I didn't." Awazuki did a double take, and Hijiri continued: "I had no way of reaching out to her in time. Our ship sank."

"Then how—" Awazuki swallowed the pointless question before finishing it. It was obvious how Hijiri had survived. Instead, she asked: "And what happened to the other people on the ship?"

Hijiri sighed, and from that Awazuki already knew the answer was the one she had feared. "You must understand how trapped and helpless Minamitsu felt, Awazuki. She was beyond despair. And this way, less people will drown than would have if she hadn't been saved."

It took Awazuki several moments of wrestling with her thoughts to accept Hijiri's rationalisation of the situation. Even then, she doubted she could keep her bitterness from her following words. "Well, at least she won't be able to drown anyone on dry land."

"Truth be told, she doesn't need water to drown people. She may do it as she pleases, water or no water."

"What?!" A human-hating ghost with a terrifying deadly ability running wild close to the village? Hijiri had better be joking.

"Do not fear, she gave her word. She will not harm you."

"Well, that's-" Awazuki frowned. "Wait. 'You' as in me personally, or 'you' as in humans in general?"

"Ah." Hijiri cast another glance towards where Minamitsu had vanished. "I hope you'll excuse me for delaying our lesson. There's something I need to clarify to Minamitsu first."

"Take your time," said Awazuki with alacrity, then sat down by the fire ring to wait as Hijiri hurried deeper into the wilderness. Getting a magic lesson that day at all was a treat, and could absolutely wait until the most recent existential threat to Reishoumiya was sorted out.

* * *

She returned there with Hijiri several hours later. During their absence, someone who Awazuki suspected was Ichirin had made a fire before wandering off. She sat close to it, basking in its warmth.

"Ichirin mentioned something about a potential barrier before I left." Hijiri looked up at the darkening dusk as she continued their discussion from the journey over, her brow furrowing. "Do you have any further clues where it might be?"

"Only where it isn't." Awazuki curled her knees up against her chest, staring at the crackling logs. It was still the height of summer, and the heat would continue even long after the sun fell, but all of a sudden she felt a chill. "I can try to think of places where to look, at least."

"We will find it." Hijiri said the words with such a conviction Awazuki couldn't help but believe her.

She kept her eyes at the flames. In truth, she should have returned home at once, what with the lesson stretching on as it had, but if she was honest with herself, she wanted more time away from the shrine of the dead.

"As for your grandmother..." It was as if Hijiri could read her thoughts. "There are... some means to expand her life. However, if she has already accepted her fate, I would rather suggest spells to soothe the pain and allow nature to take its course."

Awazuki nodded perfunctorily. A nasty part of her pointed out that Hijiri was one to talk, having been so afraid of death as to sacrifice her humanity to escape it, but what she said was true: Grandmother appeared to be at peace with her impending demise.

"I'm sorry."

Awazuki raised her eyebrows. "What, are you to blame? It's how life goes." She cradled her knees closer to her chest. "I'll accept it with time. It's Meizuki I'm worried about."

"Are the two of them close?"

Awazuki nodded. Feeling Hijiri's sympathetic gaze on her, she found herself going into more detail. "She doesn't handle death very well, either. She was heartbroken for months when our mother disappeared. Grandmother had to force-feed her once our father died, too."

"Ah." Hijiri eyed her quietly for a moment.

As the sky turned a velvety blue above their heads, Awazuki found herself continuing in a small, sullen voice. "I don't think she remembers much about our mother's death, really. It was a long time ago." Seven long years ago. "It was the last time a gang of oni came down the mountains. My mother actually _was_ an oni specialist, but their numbers were such she couldn't actually stop them by herself. So, she made a deal with their leader. She would come back to the mountains with them without the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb, and battle the leader there one-on-one on the condition they leave the village alone. She told us that she would return in three days, and if not..." Her words escaped her. "Well."

Hijiri closed her eyes. "I am terribly sorry."

Again, Awazuki raised an eyebrow. "Is that a confession? Last time I checked, you weren't a mountain oni. Where are you hiding your horns?"

Hijiri shook her head. "I merely wish to offer my condolences. It is always painful to have the life of a family member cut short."

"So it goes." Awazuki looked at her feet. "It was long ago, and I've still got Meizuki and..." she hesitated. "Grandmother..."

"You really love your sister, don't you?"

What kind of question was that? "I hoped it was obvious. Everyone loves her."

"No-one is universally loved."

"She is. And should be," Awazuki added for emphasis.

Hijiri sighed, but it was a thoughtful kind of sigh. "Perhaps so. I don't believe my brother has any enemies, either."

Awazuki's ear perked. "You had a brother?"

"A younger one, yes. He was a monk, and a respected one at that." A fond smile crossed her lips. "He was very powerful and a great teacher, but above all, he was a genuinely kind soul who cared for other people more than himself."

"Oh." Awazuki hesitated. "What happened to him?"

Hijiri's expression grew pained. "He passed away, as humans do. I was... devastated. I had seen many people die, of course, but for someone as virtuous as him to simply be gone like that, like a candle blown out by the wind..." She shook her head. "It was then that I began to truly fear death."

The ensuing silence, though melancholy, filled Awazuki's heart with a strange warmth that had nothing to do with the campfire, and which she couldn't explain to herself. She allowed herself to bask in the curious feeling for a moment longer, and discovered the lack of words didn't make it fade away.

Reluctantly, she got up on her feet. "I should leave before Meizuki comes looking for me."

"Of course." Hijiri inclined her head. "Before you go, there are two things I'd like to give you." She indicated at Awazuki to sit next to her. "First, a new spell."

Awazuki sat down at once. "Something flashy this time?"

"Sparkly might be the more suitable word, but yes. It's merely an variation on the first spell you have learned, but..." Hijiri cupped her hands, and when she next separated them, she revealed a set of tiny shining stars dancing between them. As Awazuki looked on, they moved into formation, a circle, and began rotating slowly, around and around again. Then, with a flash, they changed colour, gaining the rosy hue of a setting sun.

The lights were reflected in Hijiri's eyes as she gazed at them. "It's mostly useful for amusing small children, of course, but..."

Awazuki shook her head. "I love it. All it needs is more colours."

"More?"

"Yes! Red and blue and everything that matches." She straightened her back. "How about you teach me this version, and I come back to you with the one I have in mind some day?" She had never devised her own spells until then, even ones based on an existing spell, but this was as good a place to begin as any.

Hijiri gave her one of her rare smiles that reached all the way to her eyes. "So it shall be." She then snuffed out the lights by cupping her hands again. This time, when she separated them, only one rose-coloured orb remained.

"Give this to your grandmother." She guided the orb to Awazuki's hands. "It's a mere tonic, but..."

On an impulse, Awazuki leaned forward and rested her forehead against Hijiri's. Hijiri's body stiffened at the contact, but soon her shoulders relaxed. Awazuki pulled back and tried to smile. "Thanks."

Hijiri escorted her out of the woods in silence, with a peculiar smile etched on her face. Only once they reached the edge of the meadow did she speak. "We will begin our search for the seal tonight."

"Good." She needed to find a way to show the full extent of her gratefulness later, but right then, there was returning home to comfort her no doubt fretting little sister and providing her grandmother with some relief in her final days to keep in mind. She tried to smile. "I'll see you soon."

The first stars emerged as she hurried home, pale and static both compared to Hijiri's dancing lights, and the glow Awazuki felt when recalling her final smile.


	7. With Eyes Unclouded

It had poured down the entire morning, but by the time their slow procession reached the tomb, the sun had returned, streaking the grassy pathway with light.

Awazuki squeezed Meizuki's shoulder and kept her gaze to her shoes, trying very hard to think about anything but the two men walking before her and the burden they carried. The moisture seeping into her socks only distracted her for so long, so she focused instead on the sunlight. Would it be possible to have it rise from the ground, like trees, instead of waiting for the heavens to bless them with it? She'd have to ask Hijiri.

They waited outside as the men entered the tomb. Meizuki had wept for so long Awazuki was surprised she still had tears remaining, but even now she was sniffling.

Even knowing it would be a cold comfort, Awazuki stroked her hair.

Meizuki made a small, appreciative noise, and leaned in closer. That was something, at least.

They returned to the shrine in their lonesome, with the men bowing and scampering off their way as soon as their repulsive task was done. They walked in silence; Awazuki didn't trust herself to speak, while Meizuki appeared lost in another world entirely, her eyes staring into the distance without seeing anything.

It was only after they were back on the courtyard that Awazuki found her voice. "Rest. The villagers can wait till tomorrow."

Meizuki wiped her red-rimmed eyes and attempted a smile. It made her look so much like a child again it was all Awazuki could do from keeping herself from clutching her against her chest and never letting go.

The smile faded as quickly as it appeared. "What about you?"

"I'll..." Awazuki looked around. "I'll sweep the courtyard."

Meizuki looked at her for a while, then nodded. Before entering the shrine, however, she turned and pressed Awazuki's hand.

"Thank you."

Awazuki watched her slide the door shut, then walked to the side of the building and grabbed the broom. Without further ado, she began sweeping.

Just the two of them, then. The last remnants of the main family of the Hakurei clan. Perhaps she'd yet have to marry, assuming Meizuki didn't find a suitor or that they wouldn't simply accept the situation and allow a branch family to inherit their place.

She shuddered and kept sweeping. Decisions like that could wait. All that for the time being mattered was keeping Meizuki safe and Reishoumiya in one piece.

Just like Grandmother would have wanted.

She looked to make sure once again that the door was definitely closed, then placed the broom against the ground before leaning her weight into it.

As soon as the first choking sob escaped her throat, she knew there was no keeping the rest of them down, either. She crouched down, still holding the broom, and allowed the sorrow and anguish she had kept bottled up since the previous night pour out of her. In a matter of moments, she could no longer see the courtyard from her tears.

She didn't know how long she had cried, only that her breathing sounded ragged in her ears, and suddenly she was painfully conscious Meizuki was bound to hear her howling through the thin walls of the shrine.

The thought gave her pause — hadn't it been for Meizuki's sake that she had been strong? — but now that it was unleashed, it was nigh impossible to rein her mourning. She let the broom clatter to the ground and covered her mouth with both hands, but still she could hear the high-pitched wails which appeared to stem from her at their own volition.

Finally, after blinking her eyes clear of the worst of the tears, she managed to focus her attention on a shrivelled flower growing at the edge of the courtyard. Still gasping for air, she teetered over and cupped her hands around the plant, concentrating.

She felt ever so slightly better as soon as she felt her magic rushing in her. She preferred spells of light and heat, but Hijiri had suggested she try everything for the time being, warning with a smile that one never knew what kind of skills they might need one day.

Awazuki doubted she would ever be required to do anything with plants, but still felt her chest grow warmer as the flower's stem perked up and its petals began to glow with a dim light. She shut her eyes, and when she next opened them, the plant was once again in the prime of health, its pink petals swaying gently between her hands.

She smiled and straightened her back, the terrible weight on her chest almost forgotten. How had she ever lived without magic? It had only been five months, but already she couldn't remember exactly how she had managed without spells to take her mind off the miseries of the world.

Hijiri would be pleased she had stepped out of her comfort zone. Now, it was time to work on a spell of her own.

She began to chant under her breath, holding her hands in front of her. Slowly, much more slowly than she would have liked, colourful lights manifested between her palms, dim in the sunlight, but undoubtedly real.

She knitted her brow in concentration, but no amount of effort made the lights brighter.

She dismissed the spell, frowning. Hijiri had said creating new spells was harder than learning old ones, but regardless she wished she could make progress faster. There had to be some trick to it, right?

"Lady Hijiri is waiting for you at the crossroads with the jizou statue."

Her heart skipped a beat.

She looked around and saw nothing. Only after she was sure she was alone did it register to her that the voice had been entirely unfamiliar to her. It had seemed to come from above, but the roof of the shrine was as abandoned as the courtyard.

She frowned. A spell, perhaps, or a youkai so small it was nearly invisible? Ultimately, she couldn't bring herself to care too much. What mattered was the message itself. Why did Hijiri want to meet her, and so close to the shrine of all places? Had she forgotten the risk of coming face to face with Meizuki and being exposed?

Even this thought, however, was soon swept aside by a longing to see Hijiri. Therefore, she quickly deposited the broom back against the wall and rushed to the gate.

* * *

She jumped across several puddles from that morning that were yet to dry as she rushed down the steps and then the path towards the village, her long sleeves flapping behind her.

Soon, more winded than she truly ought to have been, she arrived at the crossroads. The surrounding meadows were overgrown with hays and weeds, dotted with the last flowers of the year.

The stone slab with the jizou had been equally unkempt the last time she had passed by, but while she had waited, Hijiri had taken it to herself to tidy it up. She was still polishing the statue with the edge of her sleeve when Awazuki walked towards, with a look of calm concentration. Apparently oblivious to her approach, Hijiri retrieved a piece of red cloth from the folds of her robes and tied it around the statue's neck.

Awazuki looked on quietly, but just as she was about to say something, Hijiri straightened herself and looked directly at Awazuki with a smile that seemed to imply she had known Awazuki was there all along.

"For good luck," she said. She looked back down at the jizou. "Strange to see one here. They are rare enough in this region."

"It comes from all the way from the continent. My mother bought it from a group of itinerant monks."

"A Shinto priestess buying a Buddhist statue?"

"You'd have to ask the exact reason why from her." Awazuki grinned. "Maybe she did it to rid herself of the monks as quickly as possible. Although," she peered at the statue and its small, serene face, "she seemed rather taken by the story the monks told about it."

"The guardian of the people," Hijiri said quietly, and clasped her hands in prayer.

Awazuki shifted awkwardly, unsure if the nun expected her to join in.

Before she had much time to feel uncomfortable, Hijiri opened her eyes. She kept her hands together as she spoke. "My condolences for your loss."

"Oh." News travelled fast. "It was her time. It's fine."

"It is?"

She couldn't help but smile. She hadn't had the opportunity to check her reflection, but no doubt her face was still a weepy mess. "Okay, you caught me. It's not." She bent her head backwards to stare at the sky. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"No. There rarely is."

They were content to let the silence do the talking for the next several moments. Awazuki took the opportunity to breathe in and out, and marvelled how much easier it felt now than it had at the shrine.

After some time had passed and she felt she had fully mastered herself, she spoke again. "Is that why you wanted to see me? To offer your support?"

"No." Hijiri turned to look at the forest beginning where the meadow ended to their right. "It was to say goodbye. We will be leaving Reishoumiya for winter."

At first, Awazuki didn't even comprehend Hijiri's words. When they began to dawn on her, all she could say was: "When?"

"Tonight, if at all possible."

"But why?" Awazuki stammered. "I thought everything was going so well here."

"Exactly," Hijiri said, in a tone a mother might use to soothe a troubled child, and which, under any other circumstances, Awazuki would have considered insulting. "Better than I ever could have expected, thanks to your aid. But Reishoumiya is not the only place where the hearts of youkai and humans are tainted by discord. Even if one land is a paradise for both races, we cannot close our eyes to the plight of others. That is why we will travel south this winter, and hopefully establish another place of refuge for youkai."

Awazuki swallowed. "Looking for more humans to cooperate with you?"

"If possible, yes." Hijiri turned her head and noticed the look on Awazuki's face. "Does the thought bother you? I don't plan to take any other apprentices but you."

Some of the weight Awazuki hadn't even been fully aware was on her heart lifted. "But what about my studies? What about the youkai with wings? And the barrier?"

Hijiri knitted her brow. "I should have told you of our plans sooner, I know. As it is, I hope you are able to practice diligently while we are gone. You have mastered the basics very rapidly, and should be able to strive onwards on your own."

"And the youkai?"

"Ichirin has found someone you can contact for new information, as well as for assistance should trouble arise." The wrinkles in her brow deepened, as though she didn't quite believe her own words. "As for the youkai with wings...we have no new leads. Perhaps you will discover something new while we are gone. But if you do, please do not attempt to exterminate them by yourself. I would like to at least attempt to negotiate with them before doing anything rash, and if that proves to be impossible, well..." Hijiri lowered her head. "Do not take this as an insult, Miss Awazuki, but merely as a reasonable precaution. From everything I have heard, this youkai is akin to the strange youkai to the south, with such power that it is nigh impossible to surmount it by one person alone."

Awazuki tried to offer her a lopsided grin, but it came out as more of a grimace. "I wasn't planning on challenging it to a duel, you know."

"Can you make it a promise that you will not attempt to attack them by yourself?"

"I promise," Awazuki replied without hesitation, but with a twist to her gut. Hadn't she also promised she would avenge Meizuki as soon as possible? Then again, since Hijiri was no doubt right, charging in slinging spells would likely just get her killed. She could wait.

Assuming Hijiri actually came back...

Awazuki looked away. The fact Hijiri was leaving had finally sunken in, and she felt something hard lodged in her throat. It was as though the entire world was abandoning her all at once.

"Awazuki."

She turned to see Hijiri standing right before her. For a brief moment, she half expected her to take her hand.

She merely stared, however, with unwavering solemnity. "We will return. On the first day of spring. This is a promise."

Awazuki exhaled, then tried to smile. Perhaps it was just the sun, but she felt a bit warmer. "I must be mad, trusting the promise of a youkai."

Hijiri smiled back. "I must be mad, giving one to a human." Again, she moved her arm, and again Awazuki thought she might reach out to her. "Stay safe."

"Stay safe? You're the one's who's travelling off to who knows where."

"I will look after myself."

Awazuki made up her mind and leaned forward, grasping Hijiri's sleeve before finding her hand and clasping it to her own. "You'd better. I'll be expecting you on the very first day of spring."

Hijiri blinked at her several times, but she didn't withdraw her hand. After a moment, her shoulders relaxed. "I will keep that in mind."

"You still haven't taught me that Air Scroll spell, after all."

The smile turned wry. "I should have known that's all you're after."

"What else?" Awazuki's grin widened. It felt good to still be able to joke, even after the end of an era.

Slowly, Hijiri's amusement dissipated. She pulled her hand away. "Take care. And don't let anyone discover your abilities, either."

"Are you worried I'm going to climb onto the shrine roof and showcase all my best spells the moment you turn your back?"

"It's a possibility," Hijiri replied, but it was clear her heart was no longer in it. "In all seriousness, I'm more concerned about the possibility of your sister finding out. You said she has unusually sharp instincts."

"She does. But she also believes what I tell her. Besides, she has other things to think about right now." With that, some of the melancholic weight returned to her.

"Yes, I suppose so. Even so, please stay safe."

"You, too. And say hi to Ichirin for me."

"I shall."

Awazuki watched Hijiri depart back towards the village, all the while wondering if she'd ever really see her again. She had to take her by her word, didn't she?

Besides, she had called her _Awazuki._

She was still trying to wrap her head around the full implications of the fact when she heard a tiny, unfamiliar voice speak up behind her.

"You shouldn't lie to your sister."

She spun around at once, only to be met with the exact same empty landscape as before. The same meadow, the same surrounding woods, the same footpaths, the same statue...

Wait.

The statue was no longer there. In its place stood a little girl, perhaps four or five years old, with neat, green hair, wearing long, blue robes and a red scarf around her neck. Her disapproving gaze was fixed on Awazuki.

She took a stumbling step towards the child, feeling utterly flummoxed. How long had the statue been a youkai? And why had it chosen to speak up now?

She stared down. The girl stared right back without the slightest hesitation.

"...Were you the one speaking earlier?" she asked, perhaps a tad foolishly, but she felt a need to be absolutely certain.

The girl nodded.

"And you're the jizou statue here?" She was certainly dressed for the part, though Awazuki was quite sure the statue had been male.

The girl nodded again. "My name is Eiki Shiki. I have been granted life due to the faith and good will of the people who pass through here."

Her formal way of speaking was quite comical coming from someone so small, but Awazuki didn't feel like laughing. "And you know my sister?"

"Not personally, but I have seen her before, and I can't help overhearing when people passing by speak of her."

"I suppose you can't, but..." Awazuki shook her head and tried to comprehend the situation. Inanimate objects gaining life was nothing new, but according to legends, it usually took at least a century. How much faith could a single statue next to a rarely traversed path gather in a mere decade?

She stilled her head and started over, focusing on only what mattered. "All right, you're the guardian spirit here. Good for you." She looked in the direction of the shrine. "As fun as it was to meet you, I should probably get going now. Meizuki's going to worry if she notices I'm gone."

"Wait! I really need to talk to you!"

Awazuki frowned, but waited all the same. Even if Eiki wasn't like a human child, ignoring her still felt the same as being mean to one. "Right. What is it?"

Eiki cleared her throat. "What I meant before is that you shouldn't lie to your sister about your association with youkai."

"And why is that?"

"Because lying is wrong."

Uttered with the absolute certainty of the very young and the very foolish. Awazuki almost began to smile. "And how do you know that?"

Eiki frowned. "Because it is."

Awazuki had just opened her mouth to point out just how flimsy this reasoning was when she continued: "I can see it. It's black."

Awazuki closed her mouth. By now, she was used to youkai having strange abilities, but seeing the colour of lies was a new one. More importantly, was she really going to throw herself into an argument with a child?

"Listen," she said as gently as she could, crouching down to Eiki's eye level. "Lying may be wrong, but this isn't a simple matter of black and white. If I tell her what's going on, something really bad might happen. People could end up dead. That's black too, right?"

Eiki nodded, crestfallen.

"So, in this case, a lie is better than the truth. Right?"

Eiki refused to nod, but she didn't raise a counter-argument, either, which Awazuki took to mean she couldn't think of one.

"Right. So, we can agree that it's much better that I keep on lying than risk—"

"She already doubts you."

Awazuki blinked. "What? How do you know that?"

"She comes here at times." As usual, Eiki's tone was comically serious for someone who appeared all of five years old, but Awazuki was done smiling. "She doesn't say much, but sometimes she stays for a while and stares at the path like you did just now, and sometimes when she does so she speaks out loud."

She had had no idea. "What does she say?"

Eiki bit her lip. "I shouldn't say. It's not right to share the secrets of others." Her brow furrowed. "But... she wonders about your ear."

Her hand automatically rose to her right ear, then let it drop when she realised the gesture revealed she knew what Eiki was talking about. Over the past few weeks, the top of her ear had felt... odd in a way she couldn't explain.

"It doesn't show," she said, more defensively than was likely necessarily.

"But she wonders, all the same." Eiki's frown deepened. "Perhaps she can sense the magic from it?"

It was more likely she had touched it while combing Awazuki's hair and noticed the same tingly sensation she had, but that was neither here nor there. All the same, she sought out the nearest puddle and peered into it, trying to discern if her reflection had changed.

"What are you doing?" Eiki asked, frowning.

She kept squinting at the puddle. "Checking my reflection, of course." Her ear didn't look any different from what it had before, assuming the wavering surface didn't lie to her.

"What's a reflection?"

Awazuki straightened her back and stared at Eiki. Then, in a moment of madness, she walked right over to her and picked her up.

Eiki squealed in surprise, but she paid that little attention: she was too busy trying to keep her balance, the child having proven much heavier than anyone so small should have been.

Gritting her teeth, she managed to hobble back over to the puddle and dropped Eiki on the ground there with a thud. "There."

Eiki peered downwards, then froze in shock. She stared at her mirror image like she was seeing sorcery for the first time.

"That's..." Her voice quivered.

"You. Well, your reflection. Don't tell me you've never seen yourself before."

Eiki shook her head, then continued to stare at the puddle with wide eyes. Awazuki was left to wonder exactly what youkai were like when they were born. This one spoke almost like an adult and knew more than anyone who looked her age should have, but was baffled by something as simple as a reflective surface? Maybe spirits were born with some parts of their being already fully formed, and then had to learn the rest by experience?

Whatever the case, seeing Eiki so awed made her want to smile and ruffle her hair.

Instead, she tugged at her strange earlobe. "As long as it doesn't actually show, it should be fine."

Eiki tore her eyes from her reflection to give her yet another intense stare. "But what if it begins to show?"

"Then I'll change my hairstyle." She grinned. "Hijiri says wearing it down is fashionable in the big cities, anyway."

"Even so..." Eiki was morose again. "You should tell her the truth before she finds out for herself."

"Sure, sure." She had already turned to leave when an errant thought crossed her mind. "What about my association with Hijiri? Is that black or white?"

Eiki straightened her back and smiled. "Friendship is always white."

It was good to hear this weird little bastion of morality didn't disapprove of that, at least. "Great. I'll see you later, I suppose."

"Before you go, can you do me a favour, please?" The smile gave way to sheepishness. "I don't know how to move my legs."

It took two attempts and several barely suppressed curse words, but eventually she managed to move Eiki back to her rightful spot.

"There," she said, wiping sweat off her brow. "Is that fine?"

Eiki nodded, then hesitated. "There is another thing."

She had suspected as much. "Go on."

"Can you promise me you will tell your sister the truth?"

Awazuki tried not to sigh. Dealing with this child was like trying to punch her hand through the stone she was made of. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Eiki's face fell. "Why not?"

"I never make promises I can't keep."

"But..." Eiki pressed her palms together and appeared to think fervently.

Awazuki crouched down and ruffled her hair, ignoring the ensuing high-pitched protests. "It's not something you have to worry about," she said as she let go, and smiled as Eiki immediately tried to desperately straighten herself up. "How about I promise I try to do the right thing, instead?"

Eiki paused with her stubby finger buried in her hair and looked up. "Telling the truth is the right thing to do."

Awazuki straightened herself and stepped past her onto the path leading to the shrine. "I'm glad at least one of us thinks it can be done."

She turned back once to wave goodbye to the child, immediately regretting it. Eiki was still staring after her, her large eyes filled with equal parts concern and reproach, so much so the sight made Awazuki's stomach knot with guilt.

She hastened away, the stare crawling up her back till she reached the steps.

Why, exactly, did the jizou's eyes have to be the exact same shade of blue as Meizuki's?


	8. Enclosures

"Red or white?"

"Red."

Meizuki let go of Awazuki's hair to retrieve the red ribbon and place it next to her on the floor. Awazuki took the opportunity to rub her neck before bringing her arms to her chest to ward off the cold.

Snow had fallen as soon as Hijiri had left, slowly but inexorably turning Reishoumiya into a white abyss so firmly separated from the outside world that it might as well have belonged to a different dimension altogether. It wasn't all bad — the villagers were used to being self-sufficient, and the harvest had been plentiful — but the longer the cold season stretched on, with the bitter frost slowly spreading to Awazuki's marrow and showing no signs of shifting no matter how close to the fire she sat, the more convinced she was they'd never see another spring at all.

She tried not to think about it as Meizuki busied herself with her hair, combing it with the tender care one would normally reserve for the finest silk rather than the somewhat brittle mane it really was. Instead, she thought about summoning a great light, something she had mastered a week after the first frost, and whether she could disguise it as a divine power to use it to warm up Meizuki, too.

Almost as if she had read her thoughts, Meizuki paused with several strands of hair in hand. She brought them closer to the lantern standing by their side.

"What is it?" Awazuki asked.

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer white?"

"Does it make a difference?" This was the first time Meizuki had ever commented on her choice of colours.

"I just think it would suit your hair better."

"Pick white, then." She attempted a small smile. "I always thought red and black went together just fine."

Meizuki said nothing, but at her proximity it was impossible to mistake the sudden intake of breath.

"Seriously, what is it?" She snagged several strands of her hair from Meizuki's ever-loosening grip and examined them as closely as she could in the dim light. They looked the same as ever.

Seeing Awazuki do this appeared to shake Meizuki from her strange reverie. "I'm sorry. It must have been a trick of light."

"Right. Don't worry." She relinquished the hairs and allowed Meizuki to tie them with what in the end proved to be a red ribbon after all. As she collected her hair together, her fingers brushed against the helix of Awazuki's right ear. Again, she paused and hesitated, but before Awazuki could ask what's wrong, she continued as if nothing had happened.

Once she was finally freed, Awazuki touched the ribbon and resisted the urge to do the same with her ear. "Thanks. Your turn, then."

"That's fine. You don't have to."

Awazuki halted with her hand already in the air to snatch the comb. Meizuki was staring at her knees, biting her lip.

She ignored the comb and reached instead to place a hand on Meizuki's shoulder. "Meizuki, if it's about Grandmother—"

Her words of reassurances were interrupted by a set of stumbling steps barging to the door, followed by an awkward silence and finally a respectful, but urgent series of knocks against the door frame.

Awazuki exchanged a confused glance with Meizuki. "Enter."

The door slid open, the blisteringly cold morning air streaming in feeling like a full-body assault. One of the villagers, so heavily wrapped in clothes and a massive straw cloak that Awazuki couldn't make out her features, bowed her head onto the floor before quickly raising it. Her eyes, the only visible part of her face till she pulled down the cloth around her mouth and nose were blazing with alarm.

"Lady Hakurei," her eyes flitted from Awazuki to Meizuki and back again, as though she couldn't quite decide who she was addressing. She swallowed. "There has been an incident."

Awazuki stood up at once. No-one bothered to make the dangerous trek to the shrine in this weather if it wasn't of the utmost importance. "Very well."

When she turned towards her sister to tell her she'd be back soon, she saw she had gotten up, too. "I will come as well."

Awazuki blinked, first startled, but ultimately unable to keep the smile from her face. When was the last time she had seen Meizuki venture past the shrine gate? "Let's go, then."

* * *

Her cheer didn't last long. First there was the torturous journey down to the village — Why was it that the worst cold burned rather than simply froze? — which forced her to breathe through the cracks between her fingers if she didn't wish to gape like a dying fish, and which left precious little room for conversation.

And then, there was the corpse.

No matter how many times she saw one, the sight of a dead body always made Awazuki grimace. It didn't help this particular one had been partially eaten, with several long strips of flesh and internal organs missing, likely torn from the man's body while his heart was still beating.

"No mistaking it," she said out loud as she got up and replaced the cloth that had covered the body for the benefit of the dead man's son, who was staring at the proceedings some feet away, looking ready to throw up. Meizuki stood by his side, ready to support him should he collapse. She was pale in the sunlight, too pale, but as much as Awazuki would have liked to take her home and tuck her under some sheets, she had to focus on the crime at hand.

Well, not crime, exactly. Youkai never followed the rules of humans, after all. And this was the work of a youkai: only their honed claws cleaved through bone like the sharpest of swords.

Still. Hijiri had guaranteed the youkai's cooperation. Had the former nun's absence lasted so long that the youkai of Reishoumiya no longer considered what they had promised her worth the breath it had been uttered with? Or was the culprit from elsewhere, a wandering monster who had stumbled upon the village and attacked the first human it saw heedless of local treaties?

Awazuki stared down at the covered corpse. She had barely known the man, who had only moved to the village a year prior, one of very few people to ever move in during Awazuki's lifetime. And she had let him down.

She straightened her back. "We will take care of everything, and I swear on our family's name and creed that the youkai will be slaughtered." At once, she regretted her oath: Hijiri would surely be displeased at the killing of any youkai, even if it proved necessary. She would have to understand.

The young man, who was shaking and waging a losing battle against tears, nodded.  
Meizuki placed a gentle hand on his wrist.

"I'm sorry for your pain," she said, barely audible to Awazuki. "If there is anything I can do, I will. Above all, I guarantee that my sister's words are true. Your father will have justice."

The young man wiped his eyes and cast a look of such overwhelmed gratefulness at Meizuki that Awazuki couldn't help but stare. The fact Meizuki returned the look with a sudden shy smile didn't help matters.

"Right." she shifted uncomfortably. "I'll go fetch the orb, then. Can you take care of things here, Meizuki?" A year of experience dealing with the youkai hadn't made the prospect of dealing with the villagers much less daunting.

"Of course."

She rushed back to the shrine. As she stumbled up the steps, she caught sight of strands of hair which had escaped the ribbon. Even in full sunlight, they looked like the same dull black she had been born with.

After retrieving the Hakurei Yin-Yang orb, she momentarily dipped into the pantry.

As soon as she had walked back down the steps she muttered a spell under her breath. A thin layer of warm air enveloped her, shielding her from the worst of winter. Emboldened, she rushed off the path, pushing through the layers of snow where there had once been clear paths.

First, she'd need a lead.

* * *

Tewi kicked her feet in the air, her left bare foot coming mere inches from Awazuki's nose. "Nope, can't tell you anything new. Too bad."

Awazuki groaned and leaned against the tree. Why, of all the youkai in the woods had Ichirin thought Tewi was the best person to set up as a contact? "Don't give me that, Tewi. It's a matter of life and death."

"Hardly if the old fool's already dead. Besides, who's to say I know anything? I'm just a harmless little rabbit in a world full of giant creatures with sharp pointy teeth."

This was a code Awazuki had cracked after her first several futile attempts at dealing with Tewi. She extracted two small, yellow carrots from within her robes and held them upwards. "Here, you greedy bastard. What does a youkai want with vegetables, anyway?"

"Thank you." Holding onto the trunk, Tewi leaned down further and snatched the carrots. Once safely back on her perch, she stashed the carrots somewhere within her grubby tunic. "It's an image thing. A traitor like you should understand."

Awazuki rolled her eyes. By now, she was so used to Tewi hurling abuse at her and dishing it right back that it didn't even sting. "Now, about the man-eating youkai?"

Tewi pretended not to have heard, picking instead at the bark of the frost-encrusted maple she sat on. Awazuki tapped her foot against the snow and waited. It was always tug-of-war with the rabbit, but she knew far more than her appearance gave away, and in the end she would usually share some pertinent information. Usually.

"She's not a local," said Tewi just as she thought this. She got up, and balancing herself with her stubby arms, stepped to the trunk and leaned her back against it. "And now that she knows you lot are after her, she's not gonna stay, either. She'll be gone tonight."

"Where?" She might still be able to hunt her down.

Tewi's smile contained more teeth than any smile should. "A place where no humans have any business being. You should let it drop, traitor. All humans die, but at this rate you're gonna die long before your time."

"Just tell me."

Tewi kept smiling.

Awazuki sighed and fished out yet another carrot.

Tewi snatched the carrot and gave it a tentative nibble. "Not bad. I'd like to say I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yourself, but maybe you're just playing dumb. What's behind your shrine?"

Awazuki frowned. "A pond and a forest." She tilted her head. "There's an overgrown path through the woods that leads to a rocky hillside, but not much else. We've gone there to pick wild plums sometimes."

Tewi gave her along, appraising stare, her lip curdled up. Finally, she shrugged and bit into the carrot, chewing slowly and swallowing before continuing. "Guess you really are just stupid, then."

Awazuki swallowed her indignation, but added the idea of slowly roasting Tewi over an open fire to her list of potential daydreams. "That's where the youkai will go?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Who knows?"

"You might." Awazuki was sorely out of bribes, but there was always a sliver of hope Tewi would throw in a useful detail for free.

"I might, or I might not. You'd better keep you eyes open and get ready to become a youkai soon."

Before Awazuki could muster a heated reply, Tewi was gone, leaving behind nothing but her misty breath and a single chewed carrot stump.

* * *

Though her magic kept her warm, Awazuki still shuddered by habit every time the frosty night wind rushed over her.

This was her sixth hour of vigil on the edge of the shrine grounds, and already proving more arduous than the fifth. When she had first crept out of the shrine, which had been as soon as Meizuki had gone to bed, she had expected to apprehend a sneaking youkai at any moment, but with hours of witnessing nothing more exciting than a white hare loping across the clearing, she had begun to struggle with sleepiness. Unfortunately, she knew no spells of wakefulness, and thus had to repeatedly pinch herself to keep her eyes from sliding shut.

The few thin clouds that had remained on the sky parted, revealing a full, pale moon. The cold was everywhere, and though Awazuki felt none of it thanks to the layer of warm air enveloping her body, she could sense it surrounding her, clawing her at her barrier in hopes of penetrating it and freezing her to death. She held on, refusing to allow the way her breath froze solid in the air to perturb her.

The witching hour was rapidly approaching, if it wasn't already upon her. If nothing happened during it, Awazuki had decided, she would head home.

It never came to that, however. While she was trying to keep herself alert by mutely reciting every song she remembered from her childhood, she heard cat-like footsteps approaching in the snow. Gingerly, she tilted her head to see from behind the tree she was sitting against, hoping her earlier camouflage spell was still working and made her look like an extension of the maple like Hijiri had guaranteed it would.

It was a youkai, but that she had known before seeing her: who else would it be at this hour? She was wrapped in simple white clothes, like ones used to dress the dead. Her resemblance to a ghost didn't end there: her skin was as pale as the surrounding snow. However, her carefully coiffed hair decorated with delicate snowflakes and the glimmer of frost all about her betrayed her true identity.

Awazuki frowned at the yuki-onna as she glided across the snow with perfect ease, almost as if she'd been flying after all. Was this the murderous youkai? She didn't look the type, but that meant nothing.

Before she could pounce, she caught sight of something else and gripped the tree's bark.

The yukionna wasn't alone. Not even close.

She flattened herself against the maple, unable to divert her eyes from the medley of youkai making its way across the woods. There were animals of several kinds, cats, foxes, birds, hares, some walking on two feet, some flying. Tsukumogami followed, from umbrellas to hoes and pots and pans, along several sombre tengu flying above everyone else, their plumages carefully cleaned and arranged. There were youkai Awazuki couldn't even name. There must have been a hundred of them altogether, yet not one said uttered a single sound as they walked past her hiding spot.

She held her breath and prayed her wards would last. She had sworn she wouldn't turn Hijiri's teachings against any other youkai but the one with wings, but even if she had been at full combat capacity, she'd be torn to pieces before she could get a single spell off. Fortunately, her camouflage held: one fox halted for a brief moment while passing the tree and raised his head, sniffing the air, but then shrugged and kept going.

Almost as soon as they had appeared, the youkai were gone, heading further into the woods. Awazuki clambered from her hiding spot and muttered two additional spells, one supposed to make her blend in with the snow, and another that raised her feet just high enough from the ground that she wouldn't leave any footprints, then beckoned the Hakurei Yin-Yang orb to her and got moving. One of the youkai had to be the one she sought.

She rushed across the snow. Seeing her legs move without a single sound was unnerving, but then, she reasoned with herself, it'd be even more unnerving if she could hear them. She soon saw the backs — and the wings and tails — of the gaggle of youkai, and maintained her pace.

And then, the youkai began to disappear.

Awazuki halted and goggled as the number of youkai dwindled. As soon they reached a certain point past an ancient pine, they were simply gone, as if engulfed by the darkness, till neither hide nor hair remained of a single one.

Awazuki hurried to the spot where they had vanished. It looked like any other patch of the forest, with sturdy trees and unmolested snow. She took a few further uncertain steps and was about to cast a spell to enhance her eyes when she slammed against what felt like a stone wall and keeled backwards, only barely managing to stay upright.

She gasped for air and glared ahead to see what she had struck, only to see nothing there. Groping ahead, she soon found a smooth, solid surface, warm to touch. An invisible ward, then, probably to keep humans away? She was unlikely to be able to remove it entirely, especially not without attracting attention, but...

She drew a deep breath. By now, she had a firm grasp on what kinds of spells were likely to take humans closer to being youkai, and what she was about to do was definitely of the sort. Still, if it was just this one time, and she'd discard it as soon as she could...

With that in mind, she began to chant.

At first, she felt nothing, and was beginning to suspect she had done it wrong due to playing it by ear. She kept at it, and finally her forehead began to tingle, spurring her on to complete the spell at record speed. She felt light-headed, intoxicated by the rush of attempting an unfamiliar spell, but managed to hold on even as the tingling turned into a bursts of lancing pain as a small pair of horns sprouted from her forehead.

No time to dawdle. Even though she had made her soul merely appear like that of a youkai, she could feel the disguise eating away at her humanity at an alarming speed.

She walked against the barrier, and slipped through without incident, immediately dismissing the spell. As the rush wound out from her body she felt heavier than ever, but mercifully, wonderfully, fully human. She hugged herself to make sure she was intact, and then began to pay attention to her surroundings.

The snow remained, but the field and the trees were gone: she found herself at the foot of a large hill dotted with stooped saplings and jagged rocks. No youkai, but there was an unmistakable commotion coming from behind the hill.

She crouched down and quickly advanced up the hill, intent on making no sound. The voices grew louder as she crept along. She made her way to the top, then got onto her stomach and crawled ahead, cold and water stains be damned.

On the other side of the hill was a narrow valley ending against a cliff, crowded with youkai. She spotted several of the creatures who had passed by her before, but her attention was quickly drawn to a single youkai, one with long claws and matted hair, standing apart and before the group before what looked to be cave in the cliff. Not a powerful youkai, but one her instincts told her was the culprit.

There was another presence, however, one that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. No matter how many times she surveyed the crowd, she couldn't pin-point its origin. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.

 _This is where the barrier is,_ she realised. _The one Grandmother knew of. But why—_

The youkai fell silent all at once. They split into two groups at the edges of the valley, leaving the bedraggled youkai alone at the centre. Before she could do more than frown, a surge of power radiated through Awazuki's head, blinding her and making her ears pop.

When she could next see, light-headed and quite sure her ear was bleeding, a transparent, floating egg had appeared before the lone youkai, shimmering with blue light. Instinctively, she made herself even flatter against the ground.

A moment later, the egg burst into a thousand pieces, which transformed into feathers and icicles mid-air. What remained in its place was a ball of light, which grew and took on a humanoid forme, then kept growing, and growing...

Every magical fibre in Awazuki's body responded to the immense waves of magic, making her skin crackle and all her hairs stand out. She looked on in wonder and dawning horror the figure of light sprouted three enormous pairs feathered wings, stretching towards the star-studded sky.

Wings...

There was no doubt about it. This was the youkai who had nearly destroyed her sister.

She looked on with a growing pit in her stomach as the light faded to reveal the winged youkai's serene, androgynous face and closed-eyed smile. It was clad in strange vestments and carried a wand of some kind in one hand.

The lone youkai bowed.

And then, the youkai with wings opened its eyes.

They were blue, Awazuki supposed; not the unusual but familiar blue of Meizuki's eyes, but the kind that reflected the snow around them, turning silver and milky white and piercing through everything around them.

Awazuki shrunk. She forgot to breathe as she continued to stare, utterly unable to tear her eyes away or even to think, mesmerised by those eyes that seemed to lead directly to a world beyond human comprehension. Was this how Meizuki had felt when she had encountered this mysterious being in the woods? Had she too been so entranced she barely noticed when the youkai raised its hands to kill her?

The youkai blinked, slowly and deliberately. Its hypnotic aura diminished enough for her to shift her position, ready to move. Whether backwards or over the hill and into the fray, she didn't know yet.

 _You don't know yet?!_ a voice at the back of her mind screamed at her.. _Nothing waits you down there but death!_

The youkai opened its eyes again. This time, they were staring directly up at Awazuki.

Awazuki's heart didn't just skip a beat. It froze completely.

There was no apparent emotion on the youkai's face, but it had seen her for sure. Its gaze pierced through her skull, penetrating her very soul. At once, she felt small, insignificant, lower than a speck of dust.

And yet, the youkai took no action. It was almost as if it was waiting for Awazuki to act first.

Her palms began to itch. Even if she was going to die, there was no doubt this was the very youkai who had very nearly killed her sister, the very reason she had first made a deal with Hijiri. The very creature she had vowed to hunt down.

The very creature she had vowed not to approach alone while Hijiri was gone.

Her legs moved on their own accord, pushing her back down the hill.

It was as if her movement had broken the spell: an awful quiet fell in the it hadn't been her magic that had kept her hidden, but merely her stillness. with her escape now marking her as an intruder.

She didn't stay and wonder about it. Instead, she scrablmed down the hill, heart pounding so violently she expected it to tear right out of her chest. She snagged her foot on some rocks and stumbled for several paces but kept moving, never slowing down and only once turning back to look to see if she was being followed, seeing nothing.

It took an eternity to reach the border, but it let her through readily enough without any spells, as if it was glad to expel her back into the world of humans. She stumbled into the snow, then realised to her horror the mess she was making. She chanted spells faster than she had ever before in her life, first lifting her off the ground, then to patch up the snowy field to the best of her ability. It still looked like a boulder had fallen from the sky, leaving a huge dent before spontaneously vanishing, but at least her footprints were no longer there.

The border reverberated. For a brief moment, Awazuki could actually see it, like a distortion in the air where the scant moonlight didn't bend quite right. She ducked for cover, cursing herself for failing to reinforce the invisibility spell in time.

She hid not a moment too soon, A youkai emerged, the very same yuki-onna Awazuki had first spied approaching. She looked around, slowly swivelling her hands, before her eyes settled on the tousled patch of snow.

Awazuki held her breath.

The yukionna stayed still, staring at the patch, then eyed her surroundings with renewed vigour. For a moment, her gaze landed exactly where Awazuki was lying, and stayed there.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold shook through Awazuki.

Then, mercifully, the yukionna looked away. Without further warning, she vanished, no doubt back behind the border.

Awazuki didn't dare to move till holding her breath became painful. Then, she took a deep breath and rolled onto her back, trying to get her thrumming heart to settle down.

One thing was obvious: Tewi's warnings, no matter how snide, had held more than a grain of truth. Something extremely sinister was going on.

She got up and hastily departed from the border, brushing off the snow clinging to her clothes.

There was no helping it. With Hijiri still gone, she would have to tell Meizuki. Whatever the barrier was keeping at bay, and whatever she had witnessed that night really meant, it was clearly too much for any single person to handle.

By the time she made it back to the shrine, Meizuki was still in deep slumber. She longed to follow her example, but resisted, knowing she'd sleep well into the afternoon if she allowed herself to lie down. Instead, she dragged herself back outside to fetch some water. She splashed her face with it as soon as she dragged it from the well. It was blisteringly cold, like melted snow, and shocked her senses back to action.

She blinked at her reverberating reflection in the bucket. She saw it far more clearly than the pre-dawn light should have allowed for. Furthermore, there was something off about it.

She brought the remaining water inside and lit up a candle. Her reflection was barely more visible than it had been outside, but she saw enough.

Without waiting for her command, her hand quested to her right ear and carefully inspected the lobe. The top of it felt swollen, almost misshapen. It was no wonder Meizuki had hesitated there the other day. It was almost as if it had changed shape...

But that was merely a sideshow to what had truly disturbed Awazuki. Staring down at her troubled, sleep-deprived reflection, her hair sticking out like it hadn't been combed in weeks, Awazuki finally saw what Meizuki had seen the morning before.


	9. The First Day of Spring

Awazuki thanked whichever god had allowed the sky to stay overcast even as she cursed the one who had decided the wind should remain wintry and bitter. Direct sunlight made the coloured streaks in her hair pop out, and more than once she had caught Meizuki staring at them even after they had mercifully dimmed to a more manageable seaweed hue.

Not that Meizuki was looking in her direction at the present moment. Her gaze was focused on a seemingly innocent pine tree growing by a faint animal trail partially covered by melting snow, her usually smooth brow contracted into a deep frown. Of course, Awazuki knew why: though sight couldn't reveal it, the tree marked the edge of the outer barrier keeping them at bay from the inner one.

"One walked..." Meizuki made a sweeping gesture with her hand over what looked like an untouched snowbank. "Right there." Her brow furrowed further, to where Awazuki wouldn't have been surprised if the lines had remained permanently etched on her face. "There were many of them here last night, but all but one of them retreated back in."

Awazuki nodded and buried her hands in her sleeves as Meizuki continued tracking the youkai's path, resisting the urge to use her magic to summon a warm breeze. Of the two of them, Meizuki had always had a closer connection to the gods, and since Awazuki's instincts had recently waned in equal measure to the moon without ever quite waxing back, all she could do was to trust her sister.

"And one of them was the one who killed that man?" she asked.

"I believe so, yes." Meizuki closed her eyes as though the darkness allowed her to see the wandering youkai she had unexpectedly sensed and dragged Awazuki to the back of the shrine to find. "What did you say it looked like, again?"

Awazuki recounted her fading memories of the tattered youkai. She had blurted out an edited version of her experiences as soon as she had woken Meizuki up, leaving out the manner by which she had crossed the initial barrier and instead focusing on Grandmother's words and the strong suspicion she had that the youkai were up to something. Ever since her words had given it shape, the lie had become more real in her mind than the true events, to where if it hadn't been for her hair and the curious itching of her ear that came and went as the sun rose and fell, she would have been able to convince herself the whole experience was merely an elaborate dream.

Meizuki listened to what little details she could still remember with a stoic expression. "Very well. I'll know it when I see it."

"Why would it come back?" Awazuki asked, speaking more to herself than her sister. "Do you think it was hungry?" It had been a lean winter, after all. But even then, why leave behind whatever lay behind the barrier, surely a much safer place for youkai than even the outskirts of Reishoumiya.

Meizuki straightened her back. "Does it matter?"

"It might help us find it, is all." She tried to keep her tone airy, wary of the note of suspicion she thought she had heard in her sister's voice.

"Of course." And that was it. When Meizuki turned towards her, she was her usual calm self. "I think I should stay here for a moment longer."

"Will you be warm enough?" She allowed this question to substitute for all her other concerns, including her recurring nightmare about the inner barrier suddenly collapsing with Meizuki nearby.

"I will." Meizuki's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You'll come tell me at once if word has arrived, won't you?"

"Of course."

_Not that it will have,_ Awazuki thought as she trekked towards the village, avoiding slippery patches on the path where the snow had melted and reformed into ice. As soon as Meizuki had stopped asking for further details, they had decided that whatever was going on was too big for them to deal with by themselves, and had dispatched messengers to seek help from the outside world. The young man whose father had been killed had been all too eager to volunteer, but now, two months later, neither he nor any of the others who had dared to brave the snow and the stifling cold had yet to return. There was nothing to do now but to wait and hope, waking up every morning expecting a calamity and being mildly surprised that life went on as before, that the sun rose a little higher each morning, and that by now one might even say spring had arrived without a single soul returning to Reishoumiya.

A single soul...

She lengthened her stride. Who knew? Perhaps she would enter the village to see the people gathered around the familiar figure of a former nun with bizarre hair.

She smiled at the thought, then halted and stared as she reached the centre of Reishoumiya and saw there genuinely was a commotion. Doing her best to hide her excitement, she approached, the dim hope soon snuffed out and replaced by confusion.

The crowd had formed around two village women, neither of whom Awazuki was particularly familiar with. The older one of the pair was hurling abuse at the younger and trying to swipe the bundle she held tightly against her chest. The general noise was punctuated by the weeping of a third woman standing slightly apart from the other two, very young and dressed in rags, obviously a stranger.

Whatever was going on, it was firmly within the Hakurei clan's jurisdiction. Awazuki gathered herself and waded into the growing crowd.

"It's an abomination!" The older woman cried out, panic evident in each syllable.

"It is not our place to decide!"

"You know what Lady Hakurei's decision will be just as well as I do. Hand it over!"

By then, the villagers had recognised Awazuki and allowed her direct access to the three women. "What's going on here?"

At the sight of her, the bickering pair bowed. The one holding the bundle eyed her suspiciously, the one trying to snatch it away from her with hope.

"Lady Hakurei," the older woman began, her tone at once more soft and respectful. Awazuki was suddenly conscious of the dozens of pairs of eyes on her, and hoped her hair didn't look too strange at the moment. "It's a matter of this drifter and the monster she's carrying with her."

She nudged the younger woman with her elbow, and reluctantly, she held the bundle out for Awazuki to inspect.

The stranger began to tremble.

Awazuki was just about to ask what she was seeing when the bundle began to wail with the unmistakable high-pitched warbling of a baby.

"One look at it will tell you all you need to know," the older woman said grimly. "It is clear the moment you clap eyes on it that it has youkai blood. You know the stories, Lady Hakurei."

Awazuki did know the stories. "Right. I'll take it."

The younger woman bit her lip, but handed the bundle over without dallying. Awazuki cradled it to the best of her ability and shifted some of the cloth aside for a better look at the child. It was indeed a baby, perhaps from the previous autumn — Awazuki wasn't familiar enough with infants to say exactly how old — and indeed, it didn't take an expert to tell it wasn't human. Its few tufts of hair were bright yellow, and the eyes that stared back at Awazuki with tired indignation were a deep vermilion.

"Right." She adjusted the bundle in her arms. "This will be seen to. Back to your business, everyone!"

The crowd mostly dispersed, but Awazuki noticed the younger woman hovered nearby, obvious pity in her eyes. She ignored her for now and instead focused on the stranger.

The stranger, wiped her face in her sleeves and focused her red-rimmed eyes on Awazuki, desperately holding back hiccups. Though the shape of her face marked her as a foreigner, she was still obviously a human.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Awazuki asked.

The stranger nodded, her eyes wide.

"Good. Walk with me."

She followed the path just outside the village centre, relieved beyond measure that the child stopped screaming after a while. The stranger shuffled after her with a resigned air.

After they were far enough to talk without being immediately overheard, Awazuki turned towards her. "Let's start from the beginning. What is your name?"

The stranger closed her eyes. "...They call me Akasei, here."

Probably a translation that sounded less odd in her own tongue. Awazuki sighed. Knowing the mother likely had no family to return to in Japan wasn't going to make this any easier. "And is this your child?"

Akasei shuddered. "Yes."

A year ago, the thought of holding a half-youkai child would have filled Awazuki with revulsion. Now, it simply made her feel very tired. "Then I'll take you to nearest road south. They say there are fewer youkai there, so maybe—"

She halted, feeling very foolish as Akasei began to shake her head.

"No matter where we go, humans will not accept her." Her accent was strange, but it didn't detract from the gravity of her tone, nor from Awazuki's horror when fresh tears sprung to the stranger's eyes. "Miss shrine maiden, is there anything you can do? The eyes? The wings?"

"Wings?" Awazuki felt through the fabric and paused dead in her track after tracing the curious shape of the child's shoulder blades. "She can change her eye colour herself if she learns magic, but that will be too late to help. And the wings..." She shook her head. "I don't know any way to remove them that will not harm her."

Akasei nodded, having likely known the answer before even asking the question. "Then she is doomed. Humans will not accept her, and her father is in the Well of Spirits and hasn't come back."

Awazuki very nearly pointed out Reishoumiya _was_ the Well of Spirits, but something about the way Akasei pronounced the words made her think she meant another place entirely. She had a gut feeling about which place it was, too. She had to wonder. Which had been named first: the village, or the realm behind the barrier?

"...You are the ruler here?"

She jerked back to reality to find Akasei eyeing her with unbridled curiosity. "Well. Not exactly, but..."

"I saw how they looked at you and spoke to you. Like you were an important person. And you told them to go away and they did."

"I mean, sure. It's my duty to protect this village, and that means—"

Akasei nodded along with her words. Then, abruptly, she set her jaw and placed her hand on the bundle, pushing it snugly against Awazuki's chest.

"Wha—" She held on out of instinct, cradling the child.

Akasei had already stepped back before she could complete her protest. She brought her hands to her chest. "They will kill her if I take her. You can protect her."

"What?!" Awazuki stared at Akasei, then at the baby, who had at some point during the conversation fallen asleep, then at Akasei again. "I'm sorry, but I really can't!"

"You must!" Determination mingled with desperation. "The child did nothing wrong by being born. If I die, that is fine, but the child... she is just a child. She should live."

Awazuki kept staring at her. What else could she do?

Akasei clasped her hands together. "Please." She stepped forward and placed them over Awazuki's hands where she held the baby. "You are a great lady and can keep her safe. You can make them love her."

Awazuki remained as still as a statue. Perhaps it wasn't her being a foreigner that made her so strange: the longer she spoke, the clearer it became Akasei was simply mad. All the same, her pleas made Awazuki's chest ache.

"I think I knew..." Akasei continued when she said nothing, "that my life was over before I came back. That is fine. But the child..." She squeezed her eyes shut, then stepped back once more. "You keep her. You keep her safe. Please. Please..."

If she said more, it petered to silence. Awazuki was left standing uncertainly with the slumbering baby in her arms as Akasei doubled over in despair.

"Look, um, Akasei..." She eventually said, to fill the deafening void with _something_. "I can promise to take her and make sure you get a meal and a good night's rest before you leave."

Akasei looked up, fresh tears in her eyes. "You promise?"

There was a lump in Awazuki's throat. "I promise."

Akasei broke into a smile as her tears streamed freely forth. "I knew it. A saint. A true saint..."

* * *

It took them little time to find the woman who had tried to protect the child earlier. She flinched at the sight of Awazuki, then relaxed after seeing she was still carrying the baby.

Already, Awazuki felt like she had made a terrible mistake, but there was no taking back what she had said. She would take the matter to its conclusion, like a true Hakurei. "Can you look after her," she nodded in the direction of Akasei, "for tonight? And make sure she gets safely back on her way?"

The young woman eyed the other nearby villagers, who were now either pretending to be preoccupied by other things or whispering to one another. At length, she nodded. "It should be no problem. It wasn't her they wanted."

She sounded like she didn't believe her own words at all, but Awazuki took them at face value nonetheless. "Make sure she gets a good meal before she goes."

"Of course, Lady Hakurei."

The young woman gestured at Akasei to follow, and she did so, slowly shuffling ahead like a woman thrice her age.

It was only after they had already made it to quite the distance when Awazuki remembered something and ran after them, slowed down by the weight of the child in her arms.

"What's... what's her name?" She panted once she had finally reached them and tapped the surprised Akasei on the shoulder.

"Oh..." Akasei appeared to think. As Awazuki began to wonder if the child didn't have a name at all, she spoke again. "She is Kurumi."

With a final lingering glance at the child, she turned away and kept walking, the young woman gently guiding her. Awazuki stood in place only long enough for other villagers to began gathering around her again, then walked away herself, fearing the sight of those final, despairing tears would haunt her for the rest of her life.

* * *

Meizuki's eyes lit up at the sight of the baby, only to dim immediately after seeing her eyes. Still, she took the child to her arms when Awazuki offered it to her, cooing at it as she would at any human child. She smiled at it, but Awazuki could tell her smile was stained by a similar melancholy as the baby's mother had been: the knowledge she would soon have to let it go.

Indeed, as soon as the baby's eyes fluttered momentarily back shut, she gestured at Awazuki to sit down for a talk. "Is it a villager's?"

"No. A stranger's."

Meizuki nodded, as if that was all the further knowledge she needed. "What are we going to do?"

Awazuki shrugged, as though stalling was going to make things any easier. "All I promised is that I'd take her."

"Well, you have done that." Meizuki rocked the baby gently back and forth. "You poor child." Her voice was gentleness itself, but when she looked up to meet Awazuki's eyes, every inch of her face was wracked with anguish.

She halted. "Perhaps we could... let her live."

"We could," Awazuki agreed. "We could find someone to raise her, or else raise her here ourselves. And if anyone complains, all you have to do is tell them to deal with it because that is the will of their shrine maiden, and..."

An awkward silence fell. They had both known taking care of the child in Reishoumiya was never an option. Trying to raise something part youkai among humans wasn't a murmurs and rumours kind of issue, but the torches and assassinations kind. It was like placing wolf pups in a litter of dogs and not expecting it to end in tears and torn throats.

That meant...

Meizuki resumed rocking the child as though the discussion had ended, which in a way it had as neither could utter the only remaining choice. Slowly, tears rose to her eyes before rolling down her face, falling softly on the cloth bundling the child.

By the time the third tear fell Awazuki could take it no longer and bounced to her feet. "I'll do it."

Meizuki looked up, wiping away her tears. "What?"

"I'll deal with it. You don't have to worry about a thing. I'll..." She took a deep breath. "I'll figure it out. I promise."

Meizuki stared at her, and when Awazuki reached for the child, she only relinquished it with the utmost reluctance.

Awazuki cradled the baby against her chest, where it nuzzled, heedless of the fact it would find no milk there. "Right. See you later."

Meizuki had stood up after her. "Sister, you won't really..."

"We have to do something." The words made her blood feel like lead, and she groped for anything at all she could use to change the subject. "Do you know where that youkai went?"

"What? Oh..." Meizuki's frown was only partially that of concentration. "I thought it had headed eastwards, but I couldn't find it."

"That's fine." For whatever reason, youkai were easier to track down when they were in their own element, the night. "It's a long-shot, but I'll see if I can hunt it down later."

"Don't overburden yourself." For all her recent good health, Meizuki looked as sad and distraught as she had at her worst during the winter. "I'll see to it later. I don't want to become a complete burden, do I?"

* * *

Night still fell early, and had done so by the time Awazuki slipped away with the baby. The sky was a gorgeous silken blue, but that did nothing to alleviate the heavy weight in her arms.

She crept by the jizou statue with a spell of silence to mute her footsteps, then walked haphazardly. No matter how she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the child's mother. Had removing the burden of an ensorcelled child from her really been a mercy? Or had she merely consigned her to a different sort of hell?

The baby began to grizzle once she reached the thawing fields closest to the woods, and Awazuki weaved a wreath of warm air around its small frame. It was then that she realised she had no idea where she was going.

She paused, staring down at the baby. How could she possibly leave such a small, helpless creature in a forest to be feasted upon by youkai and animals?

The baby kept crying, more urgently now, almost as if it could sense the fate awaiting it. Cruel claws and fangs ripping into its tiny, still-beating heart... No, surely allowing that would be the greatest sin of all. A greater mercy would be to kill it before, but how? Was she supposed to smash its head in?

She imagined herself hoisting up a large rock and shattering the baby's vulnerable skull. She saw the blood, heard the cries ceasing at once, replaced by a deafening silence that stretched no matter where she went. And the stench of copper...

She held the baby closer, never mind how it was bellowing. No. She could never. But then what?

It was then that she saw a light in the woods ahead. Her shoulders shot upwards as she straightened her back, suddenly fully alert. She did her best to shush the baby, and almost as if it had understood how vital it was to stay quiet, its cries quickly turned to a low rumble, then silence.

The light vanished behind some trees, then appeared again. A villager looking for a hidden cache of food with a lantern? No, not at this hour. It had to be either a stranger or a youkai.

Awazuki stared at the light, uncertain how to proceed. Approaching a hostile youkai with her hands full was suicide, but every moment she spent on her shrine maiden duties was another moment before she had to make a decision regarding little Kurumi.

As she waited, the light appeared closer to the edge of the woods, where she just could make out the outline of the creature holding it. The silhouette told her nothing but that its owner had a human shape.

Then, she saw the lantern's wielder wasn't alone. Her jaw dropped.

She was rushing across the field before she even finished her thought.

"Ichirin!"

The figure, which was indeed Ichirin, Awazuki could see her clearly now, straightened her back and turned to stare, continuing to do so till Awazuki was by her side. Looking at her startled expression, Awazuki wished she could have thrown her hands around her right there and then.

"Awazuki!" The wide smile that spread across Ichirin's face was almost as good as a hug.

She raised the lantern for a better view, then stared at the baby. "Is that yours?"

"Of course not!" Despite everything, Awazuki found herself smiling freely. "Where's Hijiri?"

"Back at camp. We just made it here and are setting up. I'm looking for kindling." She exchanged glances with Unzan. "It can wait, though. Want to go see her now?"

Awazuki nodded at once, then glanced upwards. Dark though it was, it likely wasn't midnight yet.

_The first day of spring._

And just like that, she knew the worst of her problems were over.

* * *

In twenty minutes' time, Awazuki was sitting opposite Hijiri by a roaring fire, waiting for the water to boil, with Ichirin and Shou sitting placidly on another log, the former occasionally stoking the fire and the latter occupying herself with the now slumbering baby. Minamitsu Murasa was nowhere to be seen — she had stayed behind for now, apparently, having missed the ocean despite all the misery it had caused her.

Apart from the dust around the hem of her robes, Hijiri herself looked just as Awazuki remembered, with the same kindly eyes and strange hair. It was almost as if she had never left.

Her voice was the same, too, as was the small nod she gave Awazuki after she finished relating the gist of her wintry excursion. "That is indeed a concern."

"Time's running out, whatever it is." Awazuki poked at the fire with a stick, her peace impugned by visions of flames and corpses.

"If things come to a head," Shou suddenly said, looking up from the flames that were still reflected in her eyes, "I'm sure Nazrin can go and fetch some help."

Awazuki nodded at her. Apart from the ever-elusive Nazrin, who she was yet to meet at all, and the immensely terrifying Murasa, Shou was the follower of Hijiri's she knew the poorest. All the same, she quite liked her: she had a kind of quiet dignity she would never have expected in a youkai a year before.

"We'll have to investigate the matter as soon as possible," said Hijiri. "As for your most pressing matter..."

The baby gurgled, as if aware it was being spoken of.

"Of course we can take her in."

"Thank you!" Awazuki exclaimed, bowing her head before catching herself. Perhaps it was just how long it had been since she had last seen Hijiri, but something about her calm gaze made her feel skittish the way her re-union with Ichirin hadn't. "I mean... I'm very grateful."

Hijiri chuckled, then accepted the burden as Ichirin offered the child to her. She smiled down at the swaddled bundle. "Hello, there." When the child didn't react, she turned her attention back to Awazuki. "Even now, I must admit I'm surprised thay you are willing to entrust us with a human child."

"Half human," Awazuki corrected her. "Half youkai. In other words, it's your kin too."

Hijiri stared at her, then raised the blanket obscuring the child's head.

"Oh, I see now," she said, twirling a blonde lock of hair growing on the child's head around her finger. "A hanyou, then." She tickled the child's chin. "You're a rarity, my dear. What is her name?" The last part was addressed at Awazuki.

"Kurumi." Awazuki followed up with a more detailed explanation of where she had come from: earlier, she had mostly stated that the child was in urgent need of anyone willing to look after her outside of Reishoumiya.

The youkai listened to her tale with deepening intrigue, and after it was concluded, Hijiri let out a soft sigh. "One of these days I would like to pass an hour without a single reminder of how much work there still lies ahead of us."

"The day will come, Lady Byakuren," Shou commented before focusing on the flames.

"I feel like it has been worse, lately," Ichirin chimed in. "Only recently, Lady Byakuren found herself hounded by a youkai exterminator."

Awazuki gave a start. "You were unmasked?"

Hijiri nodded. Though still maintaining an aura of serenity, she didn't look entirely pleased with the topic. "Really, Awazuki, you of all people should know that my appearance alone isn't a guaranteed safeguard."

Awazuki brushed that aside, fully aware of the silliness of her words: of course she knew she and Meizuki weren't the only people in the world who could sense youkai. "You should be more careful."

"I'm not sure there's much more I can do, really. All the same, we believe I have eluded her for now: she hasn't made a single appearance since we retreated from the residence of the Hieda clan."

"If you say so." The thought of a exterminator with her sights set on Hijiri made Awazuki's stomach turn, but she did her best to brush it aside.

Before she had to think of another topic to fill the silence, the baby did her job for her by letting out an ear-splitting scream. Ichirin, who had been holding her, jerked back and did her best to soothe the crying bundle.

"What do I do, Lady Byakuren?" she asked when her best efforts only made the small red face bunch up further and holler even more.

Hijiri took the baby in her arms and attempted to soothe it by cooing to it gently. The baby paused, her huge eyes fixed on the gentle hazel irises above her, hiccuped, and then began to scream twice as loud.

"Oh dear." Hijiri sighed, rocking the baby back and forth to no effect. "I must admit that I don't have much experience with babies."

Awazuki reached out. "Neither do I, but I can give it a try."

The baby was in her arms so fast she was convinced magic was involved. She rocked the baby, doing her best to mimic Meizuki's demeanour. She had always been good with the village children, gentle while still managing to act as an authority figure. Of course, a child this small didn't need discipline as much as it did food and sleep.

"...It's probably hungry," she said after trying to think just how long it had been since the child had been fed.

At once, Ichirin was on her feet. "I will go find something."

"A baby this small can only drink milk—" Awazuki began uncertainly, but by then Ichirin and Unzan had vanished into the woods.

"She knows." Awazuki looked down, a little surprised she wasn't just imagining things and that Hijiri really had placed a comforting hand on her arm. "It won't be an issue. We will find a way."

"Right." Was she so ready to believe Hijiri because it was more convenient for her, or because she actually trusted her? She could no longer tell. What she could tell was that it might take Ichirin some time to procure milk from whatever obscure source she had in mind, and if they had to listen to the baby cry till then they'd all go mad. "Think we can distract her?"

"Do you have something in mind?"

"Yes. Hey, Kurumi." She put on a smile even though the baby hadn't reacted to her name. "I'm going to show you something."

She secured her against her chest with one hand, then raised the other aloft and began to chant in a clear, light voice. Tiny spheres of light popped into existence above her open palm, rotating lazily around and orbiting each other in tiny ellipses. She focused, and the spheres grew in size till their glow rivalled that of the fire.

The baby's cries grew muted. She was now paying close attention to the lights, and cooed softly as Awazuki made the largest of them make a swoop around her wrist.

Awazuki grinned. "You've seen nothing yet." She focused and lobbed the magical construction into the air and allowed it to rise above the treetops. After that, she began to play with the colours, breaking the white into red and blue and green and purple, then placed the makeshift planets on an orbit.

The speed of the spheres kept increasing, and they started to make a humming sound, their lights pulsating wildly. For a finale, she closed her hand into a fist, and the entire thing exploded into a mess of shining fragments, firing into all directions and temporarily reflecting an illusion of a rainbow on the night sky. Glittering pieces fell down towards earth, mostly burning out before touching the ground.

Awazuki took a deep breath, her cheeks pink from effort and satisfaction. A fragment fell down close to her feet and she crouched to pick it up.

"There," she said triumphantly, as the glow of the cooling magic fragment briefly tinted her fingers blue before fading. "That was fun, right?"

Only now did she noticed how hushed both Hijiri and Shou were. She frowned and looked up just in time to see Ichirin rushing back, Unzan trailing after her with his enormous face knitted into a frown. "What, did I do something wrong?"

That broke the spell. Hijiri shook her head, and when she smiled at Awazuki, her eyes shone. "I had no idea you had become so skilled."

As if on cue, Shou and Ichirin began to clap, their expressions those of genuine admiration.

Awazuki felt her cheeks redden further in a flush of pleasure. "Well, I did have months to work on it."

"Even so." The smile on Hijiri's face was similar to what Grandmother had worn whenever Meizuki mastered yet another divine power. "You've taken everything I've taught you to heart and moved beyond it, finding your own branch of magic far sooner than most. You have the makings of a truly fine magician."

Awazuki shook her head, but despite her attempts at modesty, the compliments touched her to the very core. If Hijiri was being honest — and why wouldn't she be? She had been silly to ever doubt her — and the spell was as promising as she had hoped, did that mean she had finally found her field? She wouldn't have to worry about being a failure of a shrine maiden if she could carve out her own path, one of stars and magic.

"It was very bright," said Ichirin, looking back at the darkness she had emerged from. "I'm pretty sure everyone even miles from Reishoumiya saw it."

Awazuki shrugged. "That fine, isn't it?" She handed the baby back to Hijiri. "All the humans are fast asleep at this hour, and all the youkai already know you are here."

Ichirin's smile was fainter than usual. "I suppose so."

"Anyway, here's another human who needs some sleep." She gave the baby one last affectionate stroke before looking Hijiri in the eye. "Sorry about the hassle."

Hijiri raised her palm towards Awazuki. "It's quite alright. Besides," her smile brought sunlight into the dark night, "this may yet prove to be a boon to us all, the child and both races included."

Awazuki responded to the smile, the magic still tingling on her fingertips making it easy for her to forget her earlier reservations. They had been silly, anyway. "You're the best, Hijiri."

Hijiri chuckled and mumbled something modest. "Take care on your way home, now. We'll meet again tomorrow."

Awazuki nodded, then wrapped a spell of warmth around her as she exited the radius of the fire. The spring in her step fell as she realised she had to decide what she'd tell Meizuki about the baby. Could she get away with saying nothing at all, pretending the matter was too heavy for words? Would that just bring the horror she had seen lurking behind Meizuki's eyes more to the forefront?

"Awazuki."

For a moment, she was certain she had gotten so deeply immersed in her imagined scenario of what would happen when she got home that it had bled into reality and made her hear things. Her little sister never called by her given name, after all.

Then, she halted.

She turned.

Her blood ran cold.

Meizuki stood behind her in the woods, a mere minute's walk away from Hijiri's camp, with the gleam of the fire still visible between the trees. Behind her, she dragged the corpse of a small, clawed youkai, which Awazuki saw was the human-devouring wretch of the autumn prior. Her face were impassive, but her eyes were alight with cold fire.

"What were you doing over there, Awazuki?"

No words came to Awazuki. In fact, she had forgotten altogether how to breathe.


	10. Strangers by Blood

Meizuki let go of the youkai corpse, which flopped onto the ground like a rag doll. She took another step forward, her expression a mask.

"I will ask again." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What were you doing?"

There was no escape, Awazuki realised, not even in silence. Eventually, she would have to speak. The question that remained was which of the excuses bobbing and weaving on the surface of her mind would pass through her lips.

"I..." She began, surprised that her voice carried. "I found a way to deal with the baby."

Meizuki closed her eyes. Perhaps it were the shadows, but for the first time in her life Awazuki saw a distinct resemblance between her and Grandmother.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked, with a weight to each syllable.

Playing dumb would only prolong the inevitable. Still, Awazuki felt a splash of hope. While as she had been certain revealing her secret would spell disaster, Meizuki was still the most kind-hearted person she knew, barring perhaps Hijiri. Surely, if there was anyone she could explain the situation to after being caught, it was her. "It's not what you think."

"So you haven't been consorting with youkai?"

"These youkai are different." Awazuki didn't like the frost in Meizuki's tone, a stark contrast to her usual warmth, but she persisted. "They want peace as much as we do. They're the reason why there have been so few attacks over the past year." She forced a smile on her face. "I'm sure if you only met Hijiri and saw everything she has taught m—"

Meizuki interrupted her then, but not through any means Awazuki had expected. She did so by dissolving into tears.

Mortified, Awazuki at once stepped towards her, hand already raised to comfort, but Meizuki made a warding gesture to stop her in her tracks. She could do little but watch helplessly as her sister hid her face behind her blood-flecked sleeve and wept.

"Meizuki..." The icy grasp that had squeezed the breath out of her remained, but the sight of Meizuki's sorrow was numbing her to it.

After what felt like a small eternity, Meizuki lowered her hand. She looked older, somehow, and for the first time in her life Awazuki understood when people said she bore a resemblance to Grandmother.

"I knew you had changed," Meizuki's voice wavered, but she continued. "Even before Grandmother died, I knew something was wrong, but I still trusted you. Even when my instincts told me you were using magic, I pushed them aside because I thought you would never betray me..."

"I haven't betrayed you." That was one thing Awazuki was certain of.

"I never thought you could be lured into such an obvious trap," Meizuki continued as though Awazuki hadn't interjected at all. "You of all people should know what youkai are like. Have you forgotten Mother? Have you forgotten all the dead villagers? Have you forgotten what almost happened to me?"

And here Awazuki had thought she couldn't feel any colder. "I haven't forgotten for a moment."

Meizuki's posture changed. Her cold gaze was back, with only the remnants of tears in the corners of her eyes to mark it had ever been gone. "And yet you would allow yourself to be..."She hesitated, groping for a suitable word, then continued with sudden venom, " _seduced_ by a youkai."

Awazuki snapped to attention. "I have done no such thing!"

"How can you say that when you have all but become one of them?"

The words struck their mark. Instinctively, Awazuki raised her hand to cover her deformed ear, but she couldn't do the same to her rising panic. The disappointment welling in Meizuki's eyes was joined by her own fears about her slow but inexorable metamorphosis.

"I'm not a youkai." The words came out as brittle as the last ice of spring. She would have protested with stronger words and more vehemence, but her throat closed up before she could.

Meizuki sighed and closed her eyes. "I know. But you are so close to the edge that I can't help but—" She halted here, biting her lip as fresh tears sprung forth.

Again, Awazuki yearned to offer her support. Again, she was rejected.

"I can't do this on my own," Meizuki finally continued, in a quiet, defeated voice. "Everyone else is gone, and now I've lost you, too..."

"You haven't lost me!" Awazuki knew better than try to reach for Meizuki's hand for a third time, but she held out her hands just in case Meizuki wanted them regardless. She forced herself to calm down. "I haven't forgotten what I promised you. Not even for a moment."

Meizuki jerked her chin upwards. For another eternity, she simply stared at Awazuki as though gauging her soul.

As the silence stretched on, Awazuki's attention drifted to the dead youkai. It had fallen with its face to the ground, its limbs askew, so small in death. Why had it returned? Why that day of all days? She supposed she would never find out, now.

"If you mean that," Meizuki finally said, wiping the corners of her eyes. When she next opened them, they flashed steel, "You must make a promise."

Awazuki felt so very tired. "Name it."

"You cannot use their magic again."

Oh. That was a tough one. Having to go back to nothing but the orb and the power of the moon would be almost as bad as hacking off a limb. That was before taking into account just how much she had come to love working out spells and the sheer joy of summoning magic to her fingertips.

Meizuki saw her hesitate. "It's for your own good. What will happen to you if you become a youkai?"

She had a point, as much as Awazuki hated it. She lowered her gaze. "I promise I will never use magic again."

"Good." Some of the severity on Meizuki's face eased off, but it didn't feel like a triumph. If anything, Awazuki thought she felt some of her soul drain from her body.

Worse, Meizuki wasn't done yet. After taking a deep breath, she continued. "Furthermore, you must never see those youkai again."

Awazuki's world stilled.

"That is even more important," said Meizuki after several failed attempts from Awazuki to come to grips with what was expected of her. "Once they see their plans to corrupt you have been foiled, they are sure to turn on you. They must go."

"To corrupt—" Awazuki began, raising her voice, only she couldn't continue. She was beginning to realise that not that long ago, she would have seen her situation exactly as Meizuki saw it now. Hell, had she herself not doubted Hijiri in the past?

She thought of Hijiri, her kindly eyes and gentle deeds masking immense power. She thought of Ichirin and her indomitable spirit, and the strange tranquility of Shou. She even thought of Tewi, her annoying tittering and biting words, and despite everything felt something akin to fondness for the rabbit.

She shook her head.

"I can't promise that."

Immediately, Meizuki's expression closed off. The spark of hope in her eyes vanished like the moon behind a dark cloud. "You have to."

"I can't." Come what may, she wouldn't be an oath-breaker or someone who turned their back to their friends. "Even if you can't fully trust them, the barrier is no joke. We need everyone who could possibly help us with it at hand till we know it's safe."

"We have already sent for aid."

"But it hasn't arrived yet. Until then..."

_Until then._

She would never understand precisely why, but something about those words made a thread within her, stretched thin by the constant need for lies and secrecy, finally snap. The only thing that could make the situation any worse was pretending Meizuki was right about Hijiri and the others, that they were something to be tolerated while they might be of use and to be driven away or killed as a danger to humans at other times.

She braced herself. "No, not until then. Anything else you want, I will do, but I won't stop seeing Hijiri."

Meizuki made no response. Her skin, always so smooth, looked strangely waxen in the starlight.

Slowly, she turned her back to Awazuki. "Let's go home."

"Meizuki, I swear," Awazuki stepped towards her and was once again at arm's reach. "I would never turn against you or Reishoumiya."

"Fine." Meizuki's voice was quiet and resigned, the opposite of fine. "Let's go."

She stepped past the youkai corpse, leaving it where it lay. A warning.

Awazuki didn't follow. "I promised I wouldn't use magic."

"You did." Meizuki paused, her back straight and turned to Awazuki. "As it happens, I'm glad of how you dealt with the child. Let the youkai take care of their own."

"Right." Awazuki glanced in the direction of the camp, seeing not even a flickering flame. She could have reminded Meizuki that Kurumi was not full-blooded youkai, but the bloodless, exhausted manner in which she had uttered the words made all arguments seem futile.

"She is all the more reason why they must leave. What will the people say if they see them with the child?"

The thought hadn't crossed Awazuki's mind, and she felt all the more foolish for it. "I'm sure we could—"

Meizuki turned to gaze at her.

The remaining words died in Awazuki's throat.

There was no anger in Meizuki's eyes. Even the horror and disappointment from before had dissipated, leaving behind hollow, tired resignation. It was the same quiet despair she had worn after her tears for Grandmother had finally dried out, leaving behind only the loss and the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same.

It wasn't long till she turned away and kept walking, nothing about her gait suggesting anything out of the ordinary.

Awazuki followed, pulled ahead by an invisible tether that kept her moving even as the cold ground sapped the strength from her legs.

Well. This must have been what the shell of a cicada felt like after being abandoned.

* * *

At home, Meizuki confined herself in one of the smaller rooms of the shrine. Her shadow remained upright behind the door as Awazuki lay herself down for a night of dreamless, fitful slumber.

She woke up at sunrise to hear Meizuki speaking in a low voice to a visitor whose voice Awazuki didn't recognise. She threw her clothes on and rushed outside, but by the time she made it to the porch, all that awaited her was the retreating back of a nondescript villager.

Then, recognition set in. It was the young man who had been sent off to deliver a message about the border to any mystics willing to listen.

She turned towards Meizuki, hope and joy overwhelming all other sentiment. "What did he say? Why is he leaving already?"

Meizuki said nothing. She kept her eyes trained ahead of her and when she turned to go back inside, she did so with her gaze averted from Awazuki.

"Meizu—" But her sister had already been swallowed by the gloomy insides of the shrine.

* * *

Mercifully, not once did Eiki say _I told you so_. Awazuki felt bad enough without being chided by someone who came up to her hip.

In fact, she said nothing when Awazuki sat down cross-legged on the crossroads, heedless of the dampness left by the melting snow, and allowed all the words trying to make her heart burst pour out in a single confessional flood. She was silent for so long that as Awazuki concluded, spent and short of breath, she began to wonder if the jizou really was just a statue after all.

The stillness lasted for a few moments longer till Eiki jerked her head sideways, the full blast of her bright eyes landing on Awazuki. "Did you try speaking with her again?"

"Of course. Every few hours, both today and yesterday. She treats me like air." A bitter smile rose to Awazuki's lips. "I'm not sure I can blame her."

Eiki stepped down from her pedestal. There was a kind of rigidity to her movements around the knees, but she had no trouble seating herself in a perfect seiza next to Awazuki. She said nothing, but her brow was knitted as though she was genuinely trying to figure out a plan.

Awazuki left her to her pondering. She had only told the opinionated little jizou her story out of desperation to speak with anyone who might understand it, but she did feel slightly better having done so.

"I thought she would calm down after a while," she continued, more to herself than to Eiki, "but today, she didn't even leave the storage room till I went outside. I thought about writing her a letter, but..."

She turned her head to see that Eiki was using her finger to doodle butterflies in the dirt.

"I shouldn't be burdening you with this." In the early days of winter, the jizou had been baffled by snowfall. What could she possibly expect from a one-year-old, even a youkai one-year-old?

Eiki shook her head. "I can't do much, but I can listen and tell you what's black and what's white."

The corners of Awazuki's mouth tugged upwards despite herself. "So, what's the verdict? Has my soul been irrecoverably blackened by sin?"

"Of course."

Awazuki did a double-take. Surely she hadn't actually received such a blunt answer.

Eiki didn't appear to notice her surprise. Bending over, she retraced the wings of the nearest butterfly. "Everyone who passes by here has darkness in their heart. As does everyone who stays here." She brought her hand to her chest as if to check if her own heart was still beating, a contemplative frown on her brow. Did she have a heart? Awazuki had no idea. "I think... it's just a part of being alive."

Not a cheery thought, exactly, but one Awazuki felt acutely at the present moment. "So, there's no hope?"

Eiki looked up with such naked distress Awazuki nearly laughed at her plight and then felt a little bad. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just..." She really shouldn't have discussed all this with a child. "Well, do you have some ideas about what I should do next?"

At this, the little jizou perked up, like a student asked by their master to showcase their prowess. "Let more light in."

Awazuki smiled. She thought of Hijiri, who would certainly agree with the sentiment. She really ought to introduce Eiki to her if she ever got the chance.

The uncertainty of such an opportunity sent her mind soaring. What was she doing, exactly, sitting there prattling about her woes and avoiding what she knew she ought to do for fear of upsetting Meizuki further? Did it really matter if her sister forgave her a little faster if all of Reishoumiya was wiped out from the map because of it?

"Good deeds, huh?" She was stalling, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. "Where do you think I should begin?"

It was an unfair question to put to Eiki, but she took it in stride. "What do you think is the most important thing you can do now?"

"...My duty. To protect people." Right. That was simple enough. There was no guarantee aid would arrive on time. The least she could do was to figure out how immediate the danger, and potentially evacuate the villagers. And the most likely person to help her with all that...

She got up, blinking rapidly as her eyes clouded. She may have been a failure as an older sister, but she could still do her part as a shrine maiden.

She forgot to thank Eiki before rushing towards the village, but cast aside the thought of going back the moment it occurred to her. Making amends was on hold for now. Now, it was time to move.

* * *

Her lungs were on fire by the time she crashed head-first into Hijiri's camp, nearly setting her foot on the ashes remaining of the campfire and then all but colliding with Hijiri herself.

"Awazuki." Hijiri steadied her as she toppled over, wheezing for air. "What is the matter? We were worried when we didn't see you yesterday."

She sounded so up to speed, and from what little Awazuki could see of her face between gasps, she was fully awake, too. Did Hijiri ever sleep? She had never asked.

Trying and failing to form words, she shook her head like trying to chase away a pestering bug. She couldn't get into either that or what was wrong now, not till she knew more about the barrier's condition.

"Can..." she finally managed, only to be forced into silence by her protesting lungs.

When was the last time she had ran the entire way from the crossroads to the camp without a replenishing spell to keep her going after she had passed the village? Never, she supposed.

A light frown appeared on Hijiri's face. She let go and raised her hands. "Here, allow me..."

"No!" For all her disorientation, Awazuki managed to back away. Only after her outburst did she realise how rudely she had spoken, but when she glanced up, Hijiri looked rather more bemused than cross.

"It's... fine," she panted, in a milder tone. "I just... need a minute..."

Finally, her breathing evened out. She straightened her back, acutely aware her hair was all over her face and that her friends were spooked by how strangely she was behaving. She had never promised she wouldn't allow spells to be cast on her, only that she wouldn't do it herself, but the thought of letting it happen still felt like a betrayal.

Hijiri waited patiently for her to speak, her brow knitted in concern. In the corner of her vision, Awazuki saw Ichirin approaching, flanked as always by Unzan and with a swaddled bundle in her arms.

After several deep breaths, Awazuki found she could speak again. "Can you come to see the barrier with me right now?"

"The barrier?" Hijiri thought about it for only a moment before nodding. "Yes, of course. Has there been an emergency?"

"No, but— hi, Ichirin. Hi, Unzan. Hi, Kurumi." She cast the briefest of smiles on the soundly sleeping baby. "I'll explain it on the way. I just want to know how long it has till it breaks as soon as possible."

"I cannot guarantee I will be able to discern that, but I can at least try." Hijiri then smiled. "Shall we go?"

And, for all her misgivings, Awazuki felt flush with relief.

* * *

"Somewhere... around... here..." Awazuki hobbled forward, holding her arms out to find the barrier as soon as possible. Hijiri trailed after her, walking rather than floating despite the soaked ground drenching their feet.

It was funny how much better a clear purpose could make you feel. Gone was the sinking feeling of failure: she had a task at hand and fretting over her stifling promises and future could wait till it was completed. Even bringing Hijiri so close to the hallowed ground of the shrine had only made her heart jump once.

Finally, as she was about to give up and walk further before trying again, Awazuki's hand bounded against something invisible.

"Here we go." She felt for the barrier, allowing her hands to roam all over the invisible surface. It felt colder than it had during the winter, somehow, and she soon withdrew for fear of frostbite.

Right. She was human enough for the barrier, anyway.

"I shall go ahead then." Hijiri had walked over to her so quietly Awazuki only noticed her when she was right by her side.

"Be careful."

"Of course." Hijiri smiled again, but her eyes were serious. And when Hijiri was serious, things were serious indeed.

She stepped ahead and vanished through the barrier.

Awazuki spent several anxious moments stomping around the budding underbrush, trying desperately not to imagine what might be happening ahead. It would be fine. Surely.

Hijiri wasn't slowly approaching the cavern, unaware of the youkai with wings stalking her, opening its terrible eyes and raising its wand to strike...

She jumped when Hijiri returned, unharmed, but with a deepening frown on her ever-youthful brow. She spoke before Awazuki did.

"Do you know what is beyond the inner barrier?"

"A lair of sealed youkai?" What else?

"In a sense, I suppose." Hijiri inclined her head to suggest they leave. They walked for a moment in silence before she continued talking. "The barrier itself is very old. Older than I am, by far. Its creation must have taken a tremendous amount of power."

Awazuki pictured the ancient residents of Reishoumiya, climbing up the forested hill before the shrine was built, all gathering their spiritual powers to ward off the youkai with wings in a tremendous display of force. "Right. I did figure they really wanted to keep whoever's behind there where they belong."

"I may be more a matter of 'what' than 'who', as it happens." Hijiri slowed her pace. "It appears the fabric of reality is... porous around here."

"Well, sure. I could have told you that when we first met." The stupendous amount of youkai had to be coming from somewhere.

Hijiri halted. "I will get to the point. That cavern leads to other worlds."

Awazuki paused in her wake, stunned. "What?"

Hijiri nodded sombrely. Though as youthful as ever, there were shadows of her decades etched around her eyes. "I am far from an expert on these matters, but I can tell you the borders between the worlds can be very fragile. The cavern, from what I could gauge, is a direct gateway to elsewhere."

Awazuki shuddered. "And the youkai of wings is from there?"

Hijiri nodded.

"But... Meizuki..." Ignoring the sinking feeling that dawned as she thought of her sister, Awazuki persisted. "If the barrier still holds, how could she have been attacked by it? And for that matter, how did that other youkai..." Here, she swallowed her words. Did Hijiri know of the ragged youkai's demise?

"The best I can do is offer a guess." Whether she knew or not, Hijiri proceded calmly with her explanation. "Sometimes, with powerful spells, small parts of the weave unravel before they break entirely, allowing weaker things to pass through while keeping the powerful at bay."

"Like a fishing net with holes in it?" Awazuki pictured a sea of youkai, with small red-eyed fishes swimming through the gaps. What was the youkai with wings, then? An enormous dragon, perhaps?

"Perhaps rather a cracking dam, but the principle is the same."

It would explain how the ragged youkai could get in and out, at least. It had seemed downright weak for its kind. "But then, how was Meizuki attacked?"

"If we first assume that the youkai who attacked her was indeed the same one as the one you saw, it may be that though prevented from fully escaping their confines, they are capable of taking advantage of the barrier's weakened state to send a manifestation of themselves beyond it."

"One that could still attack?"

"Possibly, yes, though only at a fraction of the being's true power."

Despite the sunshine, Awazuki shuddered. "What exactly _is_ it?"

"I cannot say without seeing them for myself." Hijiri's brow furrowed again. "Whatever it is, it appears to be something... primordial, almost, though whether it comes from Hell or Makai is another question entirely."

"Hell?!" Awazuki exclaimed much louder than she had meant to. Hastily, she lowered her voice. "You're telling me that cavern leads to Hell?"

"And Makai, yes." Hijiri paused again. "I rarely say this, but it would be much safer to reinforce the barrier for the time being than attempt to negotiate with those who live beyond it."

And therein lay the crux of the matter. "Will we have enough time?"

"I... yes. I believe so. Of course, it will likely deteriorate further before breaking down completely, but it should hold for some years at least."

"Enough time to send for help and renew it," Awazuki added. A memory of Tewi smirking about the imminent disaster flashed across her mind. How old was the rabbit youkai, exactly? Perhaps to her, a year was little more than a fleeting moment.

She didn't dwell on the thought. Her exhaustion, till then held at bay by urgency, came crashing back on her.

"Precisely so." Hijiri's smile morphed into confusion. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm not sure." Awazuki wasn't lying, either. Knowing they still had time had solved her most pressing problem in a single stroke, yet she felt no triumph and very little relief. Was this one of those things where she couldn't rest till she knew the matter was fully taken care of? But then, ought she not have been anxious rather than drained and hollow?

Slowly, tears she hadn't allowed herself to shed the previous night began to gather in the corners of her eyes. She turned away the second the first of them fell.

"Awazuki?" The way Hijiri uttered her name was tender rather than inquisitive, and yet it felt like a stab.

"It's nothing." Even as she said that, more tears followed the first. "I should be happy, but..." She shook her head, a bitter smile making its way to her lips. "I'm not really a good person, am I?"

Hijiri said nothing. She simply looked at her. Finally, as Awazuki's tears began to ebb, she offered her hand. "Would you like to talk about what ails you?"

Awazuki shook her head and wiped her eyes dry. "Can't. I've gotta be home before Meizuki—" The situation back at the shrine hit her with renewed intensity, but she managed to keep the second wave of tears at bay for now.

Gently, Hijiri took her hand. "Then I shall walk with you."

They plodded on slowly, so slowly the ten-minute walk stretched to half an hour. It wasn't long till Awazuki found her voice, and, for the second time that day, recounted her confrontation with Meizuki. It was harder the second time around, but much like Eiki, Hijiri listened without interruption, a comforting, supportive presence Awazuki knew would catch her if she stumbled.

"I am truly sorry," she said after Awazuki was finally done.

Awazuki managed a humourless smile. "I should be the one saying that to you. You might have to move again because of my carelessness."

"You intended no harm to come to us." For a moment, the only sounds were those of their footsteps on the snow and wet earth. "Do you believe it would be possible for us and her to discuss our situation?"

"I don't know." For a moment, she pictured a world where Meizuki sat by her side by the youkai's fire, summoning her first magical light. The spark of joy was quickly smothered by the memory of the last look Meizuki had give her. "It will take a lot of time. More than we have, I think."

"I see."

"Does this mean you will leave?" They had walked in a semi-circle giving the shrine a wide berth, but now, inevitably, the main path to the steps was nearly in sight. She slowed her steps down further till a snail could have out-paced her.

"Would it make your situation easier?"

Awazuki couldn't answer.

By now, they were merely a few steps away from the path and had halted completely. Eventually, Hijiri spoke. "Whatever the case, it's not something we have to decide at this very moment. Nor does it mean I am going to leave you behind."

"You'll come and visit?" It was a cold comfort, but still better than nothing.

"That, or perhaps..." When Hijiri next smiled, it did a much better job dispelling the shadows than the sun had. "If it pleases you, you could come with us."

Awazuki's heart stopped.

It took her a moment to understand she had dropped her gaze and was staring down at Hijiri's sandals while a violent blush crept up her cheeks. Her mind was far ahead of her, imagining all the wondrous places of the world, the adventures she could have, all with Hijiri by her side.

The dream was fleeting, however. "I can't. I could never abandon Reishoumiya." She shook her head to discard any remnants of the tempting fantasy, her bitter smile returning. "Even if I could, I wouldn't be much use to you without my magic."

At once, Hijiri's hands clasped hers.

Awazuki looked up, blinking in surprise. For a moment, Hijiri's expression transported her back to that cold, crescent-lit night she had first met her, only with none of the accompanying fear.

After Hijiri was satisfied that Awazuki was paying attention, she let go and straightened her back, maintaining her grave expression. "You are worth a myriad times more than your magic, Awazuki."

It was as though Hijiri's words had been a spell, paralysing Awazuki with a sudden love and longing. She could do little more than ride the emotion rushing through her, till finally they threatened to burst out as tears.

She looked away, not wishing to cry in front of Hijiri again, even if these tears would have been ones of gratitude rather than self-pity. How could she ever have thought all youkai were evil when here Hijiri was, strange and cryptic but incredibly kind in so many ways she couldn't even begin to put it into words? She opened her mouth in hopes some kind of a thank you would spontaneously fall out of it, but at that very moment Hijiri's attention jerked away from her to something in the direction of the shrine.

"Huh?" Awazuki turned and frowned through the empty tree branches, seeing nothing till she directed her gaze towards the gate.

There, she locked gazes with a mysterious figure.

At first glance, Awazuki thought the stranger was a man, but soon realised she merely wore the robes of a male courtier, with a flamboyantly coloured women's robe completing the ensemble. Her hair was tied to a high ponytail, but what really drew Awazuki's attention was the garish mark painted onto her bared forehead. Her expression was unreadable at the distance.

As she continued to stare, the stranger raised her hand, wrapped in beads, and held her palm towards Awazuki. revealing another strange mark identical to the one on her forehead. Then, she turned away, and slowly glided towards the shrine.

Awazuki stood in place long after she disappeared from her field of vision, feeling rooted to the ground. Something about the stranger had sent shivers of revulsion running down her spine.

She was jolted back to awareness when Hijiri re-emerged out of thin air next to her, paler than Awazuki had ever seen her before. She must have cloaked herself with a spell of invisibility, but inquiring further details about magic was as far from Awazuki's mind as humanly possible.

"Who was that?" she asked instead, bewildered and hoarse.

Hijiri swallowed before answering. "That... is the youkai exterminator who nearly caught us this winter."


	11. And the Stars so Bright

"The youkai exterminator who was trailing you?" Awazuki craned her neck in an effort to catch sight of the stranger again, but no luck: she had moved well beyond view.

"The very same." Though Hijiri was once again fully visible, Awazuki could make no sense of her expression. "Perhaps I was too careless in hiding our tracks."

And for the first time since they had met, Awazuki saw a bead of sweat on Hijiri's forehead.

"She's that powerful?" Awazuki had been so alarmed by the exterminator's strange form of dress she had barely begun trying to gauge her strength. Perhaps that was why she dressed as she did: as a distraction.

"I am not certain, but I would prefer not to discover the full extent of her abilities for myself."

Awazuki nodded, chewing her lip. It was strange to think that a year ago, the exterminator's appearance would only have annoyed her, due to the tacit suggestion that she and Meizuki weren't good enough at their jobs...

"Meizuki!" She turned back towards Hijiri with wild eyes. "What if she called her here? She'll lead her directly to you!"

Hijiri blinked, but fortunately didn't waste time asking questions. "I shall go inform my followers. We will leave at once."

At any other time, Awazuki would have gnashed her teeth at the thought of Hijiri departing so hastily with no certainty she would return, but now she nodded eagerly. "Good. Go!"

"I will send you a message once we have reached safety. We will find some way to reinforce the barrier yet."

"Right." Awazuki swivelled her head towards the shrine. "I'll go and distract them for as long as I can."

Even as she said the words, she turned back towards the forest. Before she quite understood what she was doing, she stepped forward and threw her arms around Hijiri.

"Awa—" Hijiri fell silent. Her tone was surprised, but Awazuki had no idea what her expression looked like: she had shut her eyes the moment she tightened the hug, focusing solely in her effort to transmit her feelings through the embrace.

She did notice that Hijiri slowly wrapped her arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze in turn.

"Thank you." Hijiri extracted herself from the hug, with a tint of sorrow to her smile. "We will meet again. I promise."

Awazuki nodded, then recalled her own promises. She shoved Hijiri in the direction of her camp. "Hurry!"

Why she had felt such an urge to waste her time with hugs at a time like this, she could only wonder, but such thoughts would have to be examined later. Right now, she had to put all her energy into returning to the shrine.

She came to the courtyard short of breath and bursting with determination. Meizuki and the stranger stood in the middle of the courtyard, engaged in discussion. The stranger's back was turned to her; Meizuki's eyes were serious, but her expression was as calm as a jizou's. They both turned to look at her the moment she straightened her back.

The stranger spoke first, in confident, languid tones that put Awazuki in mind of a smug cat. "Ah. This must be... your sister, then?"

Awazuki meant to respond, but her attention was drawn to the mark on the stranger's forehead. It was a third eye, or rather an image of one, emblazoned onto the woman's skin with vibrant, shocking colours. Her real eyes were framed with similar colours, and Awazuki had no doubt the mark on her palm was also alike. Awazuki had already pegged her as an occultist of some bizarre fringe cult from a distance, but this cinched it.

"Sister."

She was so startled she barely realised Meizuki was addressing her. Her sister was avoiding her eyes, but her voice was calm enough. "Sister, this is Gennouchi no Manako. She's a master exorcist of the Yuugan tradition, and has most graciously agreed to assist us with the barrier."

Awazuki bowed out of sheer habit before the words registered. She had never heard of the Yuugan tradition, and Lady Gennouchi's appearance was still anything but comforting, but what really mattered was neither of those things.

"O-of course," she managed, praying her stutter wasn't too obvious. "She received our message, did she?"

Lady Gennouchi answered for herself while Meizuki nodded. "I did... indeed."

Intense relief flooded through Awazuki. Hijiri and the others were safe. At the very least, the exterminator hadn't come to Reishoumiya hot on their heels, which meant they should have ample time to pack their bearings and escape. What luck! For once, she was glad the barrier was in such a hideous shape, worlds of monsters behind it or not.

"It's a pleasure, Lady Gennouchi." She smiled so earnestly she could have passed for a deity of honesty.

"It... is." Lady Gennouchi kept staring at her, with the kind of furtive smile which suggested she was laughing at some private joke. She then turned back towards Meizuki. "I am afraid... my associates have exaggerated my skills. Though I am indeed... specialised in creating wards, I am but a humble youkai exterminator by trade. Naturally, I will... offer any assistance I can, but it is likely I can do nothing here but... gauge the amount of spiritual power required to... reinforce the barrier you spoke of."

"Of course," said Meizuki, bowing. "Any aid you can provide to us is invaluable, I assure you. My sister is very skilled at keeping the youkai at bay—" if this was meant as a barb, it didn't come through in the tone, but Awazuki flinched anyway, "—but the situation at hand is simply something we are not equipped to deal with."

Lady Gennouchi tilted her head. "It brings you no dishonour. Such... ancient wards are often utterly forgotten."

Awazuki noticed she was wholly outside the conversation, but she didn't mind. The longer they talked amongst themselves, the more time Hijiri had to warn the others, and the less time Awazuki would have to spend stalling and looking suspicious. Then again, it did sound like the first thing Lady Gennouchi would like to see was the barrier itself.

Instead of trying to butt in and as rusty as her ability to do so had grown since she had begun studying magic, Awazuki focused on gauging Lady Gennouchi's strength. She did at least possess true divine power, but what most struck Awazuki was the relative paucity of it. Powerful, yes, but not the hair-raising kind of power she would have expected from Hijiri's reaction. Perhaps this was simply a case of mistaken identity, and Lady Gennouchi was a different member of the cult of Weird Eye-tattoos than Hijiri's stalker.

Before she could decide how likely it was, Lady Gennouchi's words filtered back in. "Your description of the ward was... intriguing, to say the least. Its antiquity cannot be exaggerated, and it is possible we have long since lost the means of creating... such things. If you don't mind... Lady Hakurei... I would like to see it at once. Not only due to professional interest... but due to the urgency of the matter."

Meizuki nodded. "Yes, of course." She beckoned at the shrine, and the Hakurei Yin-Yang came flying to her side. "If you will follow me..."

"I'll come too," said Awazuki the moment they began to move.

They paused. For the first time since they had returned from the woods, Meizuki met Awazuki's eyes.

"Someone needs to stay at the shrine, sister." No rancour or disappointment, neither in voice or gaze. Even if Awazuki suspected Meizuki was keeping up appearances for Lady Gennouchi's sake, for the moment she had her sister back.

"Surely it won't take long." Yes, they were technically not supposed to leave the shrine abandoned, but no-one but Grandmother had ever taken that seriously as long as Awazuki lived.

Meizuki shook her head. "Since Lady Gennouchi is here now, it's possible some of the other spiritualists offering their support will arrive today as well."

"...Right." It made sense, Awazuki supposed. "Please be careful."

Meizuki actually smiled at that; a faint, fragile gesture. Awazuki's heart leapt, then quickly settled back down.

Lady Gennouchi spoke up before she did. "Let us go, Lady Hakurei."

"Yes."

They had already arrived at the end of the courtyard when Lady Gennouchi halted abruptly and turned. "You were... Lady Awazuki, no?"

Awazuki wrinkled her nose. Lady Gennouchi must have known she was the eldest. In other words, the form of address was an intentional slight.

Lady Gennouchi ignored her expression. "Your sister tells me you witnessed... some unusual activity near the barrier... this past winter."

Bright eyes as cold and deadly as the heart of winter flashed through Awazuki's mind. She shuddered and nodded.

"We shall... keep our guard up, then." Lady Gennouchi's expression didn't match her tone: her smile revealed far too many teeth. Furthermore, there was something bestial about the way she had looked at Awazuki, something Awazuki would have called youkai-like a year prior.

"See you soon, sister." Meizuki turned and followed Lady Gennouchi beyond the gate.

Awazuki was still staring after them, and had just began to wonder how long the two of them had talked before her arrival when Meizuki re-emerged at the top of the steps. She paid no attention to Awazuki; her eyes were fixed on something invisible just before her in what was either shock, or awe, and she reached out her hand into the air just beneath the gate, only to pull it back without finding anything.

Awazuki was already on her way over when Meizuki turned again. Her lips moved, but she spoke too softly for Awazuki to make out anything but her knitted brow. She cast one more fleeting glance at Awazuki, her composure gone, then wrenched herself away and disappeared from view.

Awazuki halted, dumbfounded. Maybe they had been talking about the gate, but she had a sinking feeling it had been about her.

Well, no matter. More importantly, she had to decide what was the best use of her time. She could do exactly as Meizuki had suggested she do and stay at the shrine, or she could go help Hijiri and her crew to make a hasty exit, possibly even agreeing on a time and place when they could meet again.

She was already approaching the gate before she could really give it thought. At the very least, she could find Meizuki and the creepy exterminator and hear what the latter had to say about the barrier.

That is, she could have. Only, as soon as she tried the pass the gate, she slammed into something invisible that knocked her off her feet.

She got back up, more startled than hurt. She groped the air by the gate and was met with a solid, smooth surface like cool stone. Not entirely unlike another barrier she had encountered.

She began to inspect it more carefully, glaring at the air in hopes that her anger would force it to spill its secrets. After a while she discovered that when she pushed against the barrier, she could just barely discern an ofuda clinging to the other side, seemingly floating in mid-air.

She bit her lip and ran her hands over the surface again, looking for a weak spot.

This had to be Lady Gennouchi's doing, but why? Furthermore, Meizuki had clearly noticed what she had done, but had based on all evidence accepted whatever explanation the exterminator had given. That likely meant the barrier was meant for Awazuki's protection. Didn't matter. She refused to be caged like this, especially with no way of knowing whether Hijiri was safe.

Her hands stilled. There. A weakness in the invisible force, one she could break without issue. Now she only needed to...

She had already began chanting when she realised what she was doing and stopped. No. She had given her word.

That only left one other way to break the barrier: the orb. Only, Meizuki had taken it with her.

In the end, Awazuki found herself delivering a sharp kick to the barrier, trying to channel all of her frustration and the bone-gnawing uncertainty into the move. All it did was make her toes sting.

She slumped against the barrier. Nothing to it. She had to wait and hope. And possibly imagine the dashing escape Hijiri was currently making.

* * *

The sun crawled across the sky. It gave Awazuki no answers no matter how she stared at where it lurked behind the wispy clouds.

It hadn't taken long before she had become utterly sick of both waiting and hoping. At least sweeping the courtyard gave her something to do, something to try to distract herself with by pretending the leaves were an invading army of oni.

The fact was, they had been gone for far too long. It was well into the afternoon already; more than enough time to inspect every single individual shaku of the barrier if necessary. Whatever was keeping them couldn't be good.

She stabbed at the dirt and yesteryear's leaves with her broom like they had called her dirty names. What if both she and Meizuki had misread Lady Gennouchi, and the exterminator was actually a malicious youkai devouring her sister at that very moment? A silly thought, perhaps, but one that felt less silly the more minutes passed without so much as a whisper about what was going on beyond the shrine.

Wait. There was a whisper.

"Hakurei no Awazuki."

Awazuki looked around, but saw nothing. The voice was distantly familiar, but not one she could name without hesitation. Tewi? No: she was more high-pitched, and never so matter-of-fact. Finally, she located the speaker perched on the roof of the shrine. A mouse youkai, in simple grey garb, with red eyes that were hard, but not hostile.

Awazuki stared at her, then shook her head. "You shouldn't be here." Whatever she thought of youkai now, there were limits. She didn't even want to begin to imagine what kind of shrine maiden would allow youkai to traipse all over hallowed ground, at least without invitation. Then, she frowned. "How did you even get here?"

The youkai ignored her protest. "That thing out there is only to keep people from leaving, not entering. Speaking of which, you should shatter it as soon as possible. This place is giving me the creeps. I want out."

"I can't."

"A fledging magician could topple it over, and from what I've seen you're pretty adept for a human. If you start working on it out, you might even rid of it on time."

Overt familiarity was something Awazuki was used to receiving from youkai, but something about the mouse youkai's tone made it sound like she really thought she knew Awazuki. _On time for what?_ she meant to ask.

"Who are you?" was what she actually asked.

The mouse youkai managed to suggest rolling her eyes with her expression without actually doing so. "I'm Nazrin, if you must know. I'm only here to bring you a message, so listen sharp." She cleared her throat. "You must run away. Now, if you can."

The indistinct fear that had been building up within Awazuki grasped her innards. "Why?"

Nazrin sighed. "Why can't anyone ever do as they're told instead of asking time-consuming questions? Here's the rundown." She raised her index finger. "The exterminator who has been tailing us has finally caught up. Lady Byakuren bought the others time to escape, but was captured. You're in danger because you're associated with Lady Byakuren and need to run for it while you still can." She lowered her hand and raised an eyebrow in turn. "Good enough?"

Awazuki staggered. She had secretly anticipated bad news since first colliding with the barrier, but it still struck hard. It was like an earthquake, the kind that rattled everything above ground to pieces.

"But..." She stopped herself, seeing from Nazrin's expression trying to dispute the news would only elicit more sighing. Yet, she had to know.

"Look," Nazrin interrupted her question before she could even begin uttering it again. "I'm just relaying what Lady Shou asked me to tell you. I've done my part. If you won't destroy the barrier, I'm going to go to the back and wait till it's lowered."

"Hold it!"

Awazuki hadn't really expected mere words to keep Nazrin from scurrying back into the shadows, but to her surprise she stayed. She cleared her throat. "None of this makes any sense. How could that woman possibly have captured Hijiri? I gauged her power earlier." Lady Gennouchi was more powerful than Meizuki, perhaps, and could certainly beat Awazuki now that magic was off the table, but that didn't make her an equal opponent to Hijiri. "Why should Hijiri be afraid of her?"

Nazrin hesitated. Or not: it might simply have been the light playing tricks on Awazuki's eyes. "You could say her true strength lies in the same place as Lady Byakuren's does."

"Huh?" Awazuki blinked. "Buddhist magic?"

Nazrin didn't answer. Nazrin was no longer there.

Awazuki stared at the suddenly barren roof and was just about to roll up her sleeves and scour the shrine — if the youkai had told the truth and the barrier kept everyone locked in, she couldn't have gone far — when she heard several sets of footsteps approaching from behind her.

When she turned, the wind whispered in Nazrin's voice.

_Leadership._

* * *

The pit of Awazuki's stomach had vanished, but she raised her chin. "How may I help you?"

The men ignored her. There were five of them altogether, all but one tattooed with the same ghastly eye as Lady Gennouchi and wielding clubs and short knifes. Ruffians, by the look of them, if somewhat better groomed than most.

"I said," Awazuki raised her voice, halting to keep it from cracking, "how may I help you?"

The foremost of the men, the one without a tattoo, his hair tied to an exceptionally long ponytail, took another step forward. "I think you already know."

She could guess, yes, but but she wasn't going to give them the pleasure of admitting it. "You came with Lady Gennouchi, no doubt. If it's food and lodgings you need, you'll find them in the village."

The men exchanged looks, except for a thin man at the back who spoke. "Lady Gennouchi sent us over to take care of loose ends."

Awazuki noticed she had unconsciously taken a step back. She forced herself to still. "Right. And what does that have to do with me?"

"Can't have youkai spawn masquerading as shrine maidens, can we now?" This was the man standing behind the leader, holding a club much like an oni's cudgel.

"More like youkai maiden," the thin man snorted, ignoring the sharp glare from his leader. "Or a she-youkai. Shrine youkai?"

The man with the cudgel shook his head and continued. "Think you could fool a master exorcist? She knew you for what you were the very first time she glanced at you."

Awazuki's knees were beginning to shake, but fortunately that didn't show through her hakama. "If she's as good as she claims, she must know I'm human."

"Haven't met many humans with hair the colour of moss, my dear." This was a man standing in the middle of the pack, likely the oldest of the group. He spoke calmly, but if anything, his honeyed smile made Awazuki dislike him even more than she did the rest. "Besides, we have been trained to fight youkai. We can tell for ourselves."

His gaze hovered by Awazuki's right ear. Instinctively, her hand rose to cover it. She forced it back down.

"Our lady wouldn't have sent us over if she wasn't certain," the leader concluded, returning his attention back to Awazuki and hitting his open palm with the head of a club in a leisurely, unconscious sort of manner. "This needn't come to violence. Lady Gennouchi is at present dealing with the ringleader of your cabal. If you agree to stay put and wait for her, we will not lay a finger on you."

Awazuki clutched the broom with such force it was a miracle the shaft hadn't exploded into splinters in her hands. Two things were very clear. First, Nazrin's warning had been no ill threat. Second, whoever Lady Gennouchi was, she was as far from being a friend of her clan as the youkai with wings.

The thought of family made her stir. No matter how angry she was, Meizuki would never allow for strange men stomping around the shrine grounds and calling Awazuki a youkai, let alone threatening her. Never. The look of distress on Meizuki's face as she had departed from the shrine flashed before her eyes. "Where is my sister?"

The leader had the temerity to look bored. "Is that really something you should concern yourself with at the moment?"

"That's not an answer." Images of horror joined those borne by concern. What did she actually know about Lady Gennouchi? She wasn't a youkai, but that didn't mean she wished the Hakurei clan well. And if someone wished them ill, what better tactic than to first separate them...

She could have slapped her forehead for what a fool she had been, but that would have wasted precious time. Instead, she looked around in search of an escape route.

"Lady Gennouchi did warn us not to look for reason here," the leader said, sounding more tired by the moment. "Youkai never learn."

She shouldn't have let herself be provoked, but she couldn't help it. "Big words from someone who obeys a monster."

Most of the five were taken aback, but only one, the last one to speak, displayed absolute outrage. "How dare you speak of Lady Gennouchi like that?"

"I can guess her character well enough," Awazuki snarled, not really thinking about her words so much as where she stood. If she took just a few steps to her right, she could run onto the porch and into the shrine, and from there, with luck, hide herself like Nazrin had. "That's what she has to be if she's willing to harm Hijiri." One step, then another. No reaction from the thugs yet. "Youkai or not, she's the kindest person I have ever known. Now let me see—" she jerked her head back, feigning surprise. "Meizuki!"

Only two of the men turned to look where she pointed. It would have to do. She swirled around and leapt onto the porch stairs, pulling her elbows close to her body as she dove inside the shrine.

"Get her!"

A hand, a powerful hand, grasped onto the back of her robe. She managed to shake it off, only for another to wrap around her wrist, dragging her backwards.

* * *

For the fifth time since exiting Reishoumiya, the young man paused to straighten out his best clothes.

Calling them his best clothes was a misnomer, really, a fact he became more painfully aware of each time he tugged his jacket in place. Still, they were at least clean, and he had doused himself with cold water earlier to clear the remaining dust of the road from his hair. He was as presentable as he was ever going to be. He should, if nothing else, make a better impression than he had earlier entering the shrine grounds, so eager to share the good news he had neglected to notice he was covered in mud up to his knees and generally looked like something that had been ran over by a pack of wild horses.

He knew he was being selfish. There was no purpose to re-visiting the shrine but to bask in Princess Ayame's radiance and hoping to make a better impression. The smile she had granted him once he had shared the good news was surely the greatest gift any mortal could possibly ask for. Asking for more of her time was greed, pure and simple.

He knew it, and yet he pulled at the hem of his jacket once more and kept walking, rehearsing over and over what he was going to say. How deeply grateful he was to be allowed another moment of her time. How, while he hadn't paused to investigate, it appeared the village had received some travellers, and perhaps they were the very people who had promised to aid the Hakurei clan. How, even when his toes had frozen so brittle they would have snapped from the lightest touch and he had thought winter would swallow him warm, all he had had to do was to think of her face and so feel summer on his skin once more...

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Princess Ayame?"

For a moment, he thought his fantasies had simply conjured a replica of the shrine the crossroads. Then, she rose, still facing the jizou, and he saw she was there in the flesh. The edges of her hakama and robes were dripping with muddy water and melting snow, and several strands of her strange golden hair had escaped their ribbon. It took him another moment to realise she had been praying to the statue.

She turned towards him with the most peculiar expression he had ever seen. It was as though all the muscles on her face were trying to move in different direction, while she struggled to keep them still. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed she had been crying.

As if by itself, the Hakurei Yin-Yang orb rose to hover by her hand. In the sunlight, its surface had a pearly shimmer to it.

"Princess Ayame?" he repeated, struggling not to stammer, feeling that even these quiet words were destroying something that ought not to be broken. He made sure to keep the camellia blossoms he carried firmly behind his back. Even when he had first plucked them on the way they had felt like an inadequate offering. Now he felt foolish for even thinking of gifting her something so trivial.

A moment passed. The lost, haunted look in Princess Ayame's eyes faded as recognition set in. "Oh, that's right. Thank you once again for your sacrifice."

"It was nothing, Princess Ayame. Uh..." Here was an opening to tell her of his exploits, but they felt pale and meaningless when compared to the shadow which had fallen upon Princess Ayame's face. He bowed his head. "Is something amiss?"

Voiced, the question sounded far more blunt than he had meant it. Fortunately, Princess Ayame didn't seem to notice. If anything, she appeared to be barely listening, her eyes flitting down the path towards the shrine.

"Please, pay me no mind." He was startled to have her suddenly looking directly at him. "Today has been... a challenging day."

"You don't have to apologise to me, Princess Ayame." There was a hitch in his breath. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head with such brittleness he had to fight the urge to throw all propriety to wind and throw his arms around her. He averted his eyes and focused so heavily on squashing the thought that he almost missed her response. "Thank you, but there is nothing anyone can do. I must simply reach a decision."

Again, she turned towards the path leading to the shrine. This time, her gaze lingered. "And I believe I have done just that."

She gave him a quick bow, then set off towards the shrine while he was still busy bowing back, as brisk and efficient as if she was leaving to exterminate youkai.

Before he had time to do more than take one hesitant step after her, the ground under his feet gave away with a deafening roar

He struggled for balance, Princess Ayame likewise. The tremors became manageable almost as soon as they had begun, but by then, his attention was fully drawn by what he saw in the distance.

Countless pillars of light, so bright they outshone the sun, rose up from the shrine and bathed the horizon in radiant glory. Slowly, as he watched, the began to fade, but at their clearest they turned the sky almost white.

He fell to his knees, certain he was witnessing the manifestation of a god in full divine aspect. The first crack of doubt only emerged when he caught sight of Princess Ayame's face. She had frozen still, her eyes widening first with apprehension, then horror.

Then, she moved. If he had thought her fast before, now she sprinted faster than he had ever imagined a noble lady could move, faster even than when he had witnessed Lady Hakurei tearing through the village earlier that day.

He hesitated only for a fraction of a moment before he followed. There was nothing he could do, almost certainly, and yet...

* * *

He didn't know what he had expected to see after rushing through the gate. He knew he hadn't expected a massacre.

He halted abruptly, nearly colliding with Princess Ayame who had likewise been stupefied to stillness. His jaw dropped.

Only splinters and smouldering cinders remained of the porch and the front wall of the shrine. The courtyard was likewise gone, replaced by a crater. Five mangled bodies lay strewn amidst the destruction, their clothes ragged, their limbs in unnatural positions. They were all undoubtedly dead.

At the centre of it all, standing still with her arm extended towards the sky, stood Hakurei no Awazuki. Her back was turned; her long hair, undone by whichever conflict had also left her garments torn and bloodied, fluttered freely in the breeze. Sunlight reflected off the strands.

Strands of the most dazzling, vibrant mossy green the young man had seen in his entire life.

As they stared, Lady Hakurei's hand fell, and she slumped her shoulders with a sigh to to end all sighs.

"Of course they were wrong." The words were teary and uttered so quietly she was clearly speaking to no-one but herself. "Of course..."

It sounded like she meant to say more, but then she doubled over. There was a sound that was not quite a sob.

Princess Ayame's hands shook as she searched for her voice. "Sister..."

Lady Hakurei stilled. Slowly, she straightened her back and looked over her shoulder at them. For a heartbeat, she looked almost happy, only for the spark in her eyes to go out.

"Sorry."

She collapsed into a heap on the ground.

* * *

_They had been wrong. A youkai would merely have shrugged it off..._

The thought, which had been circling in Awazuki's mind time and time again, joined the blurry shapes with their gleaming aura and slowly metamorphosed into Meizuki hovering above her. In the light, her hair looked like spun gold.

It took Awazuki a moment to realise her head was resting on Meizuki's lap. Warm and safe. Things were finally back to normal.

_It still burned where the iron had sunk into her chest, so deep it had all but gone through her, but it was a distant thing now. Perhaps the wound wasn't as bad as it had first felt._

Only, Meizuki was crying. That wasn't good. There had been a promise, hadn't there? She didn't want to break any more promises.

"It's fine, Meizuki." It was strange, but it really didn't hurt any longer. She simply felt cold, like some of the retreating winter had taken shelter underneath her skin. She tried to raise her hand to point upwards, but it wouldn't budge. It couldn't be helped. "Look at all the stars."

_There was a shadow behind Meizuki. A villager, sunk down in prayer. Someone who had come to show their respect to the shrine's deity? Good. That felt important today, somehow. She had neglected the gods for too long._

Tears kept rolling down Meizuki's face, but she turned to look at where the stars danced around, so much closer to earth than they ever had been before. It was as if they have travelled all the way down to greet them like old friends.

"See? It will be fine." Awazuki wanted to keep watching the dance, but the invisible hands trying to drag her underground were growing stronger. Blindly, she sought Meizuki's hand, only for Meizuki to clasp hers instead, so tightly Awazuki felt her thrumming pulse through her palm. "I... promise..."

Her eyes fell shut. She focused on the beating of Meizuki's heart, strong and insistent, and let out a contented sigh, so deep it felt like it expelled her soul as well.

* * *

_"Look, Meizuki! Have you ever seen so many stars at once?"_

_But Meizuki wouldn't look. Her face was fully hidden behind her sleeves, sniffling all the while._

_Awazuki sighed. Meizuki had been crying on and off from the moment Mother had left, and while she had calmed down for a while, too tired after the miracle she had performed to do more than lie down to sleep, once she had seen her reflection in the bucket and realised what had happened to her hair, she had began to howl all over again._

_"I said look!" Awazuki tugged at Meizuki's wrist. Her own tears had finally dried out, leaving her feeling like a husk. She longed to lie down on the grass and fall asleep, but she couldn't forget the last thing Mother had told her. "I can't teach you about the stars if you don't see what I'm pointing at."_

_"I don't want to learn," was Meizuki's sullen reply, muffled by the fabric of her robe. Her new hair really did look weird, curly and golden like a youkai's, but it wasn't like anyone was going to mistake her for one after she had used divine power to save a man's life._

_"Meizuki..." Usually, Awazuki's little sister was a pest, twice so when she wouldn't stop weeping, but now, looking at her, all she wanted was to cheer her up, even a moment. "Come on. I'll tell you a story about the stars, but you have to see them to understand it."_

_Meizuki lowered her hands. Her entire face was red and splotchy, with strands of her strangely bleached hair plastered to her cheeks. "What story?"_

_"I don't know." Awazuki racked her brains for the fairy tales Grandmother told them, but right then, standing there on the open hill with the endless sky opening up above them, they felt more distant even than the pale moon._

_In any case, Meizuki was no longer crying. After a brief silence she spoke, her voice small and stifled. "Mother won't come back."_

_The fear Awazuki had tried so hard to keep at bay gripped her heart. "Is she dead?"_

_Meizuki said nothing at all. Fresh tears sprung out._

_Awazuki squeezed her hand. There was no use asking how Meizuki knew: she had already learned that her little sister was special and sometimes knew things it made no sense for her to know. Perhaps the gods sent their servants to whisper secrets in her ear at night. Instead, she thought of their mother, her long hair she sometimes let Awazuki play with, and her low, comforting voice, which she had lowered further still to give her parting words to Awazuki._

"Look after your sister."

_"She will be back," said Awazuki, knowing she was lying and knowing Meizuki knew it too. Maybe pretending it was true would keep the crushing weight off of her for a moment longer. Meizuki was the one with proper divine powers, but Awazuki could tell stories. "She isn't dead, you see. She fought her way up the mountain, through all the oni. Then, at the peak of the mountain, she met the leader of the oni. She challenged her to a duel, and the oni accepted. They fought for a day and a night, but they were so powerful that neither could win, and had to begin anew. They fought for another day and a night, with still no winner. Finally, they decided they would keep fighting no matter what happened until one got the other down on their knees. That's why Mother isn't coming back. They're still fighting, and will keep fighting until they become stars."_

_Meizuki said nothing for a long while. Finally, she slumped down on the grass, dragging Awazuki down with her. "Everyone always goes away."_

_Awazuki's mouth went dry. Ignoring the distant lights and the voices calling out, one which sounded suspiciously like Grandmother's, she crouched down next to Meizuki and took hold of her chin. She turned her chin till they were looking each other in the eye. "I won't go away."_

_Meizuki tried to shake her head, her eyes full of scepticism._

_"I mean it. I won't go anywhere. I promised Mother."_

_"Awazuki!" It was Grandmother, unmistakably so, with a edge of fear Awazuki had never heard in her voice before. She was going to be in a world of trouble._

_"I'll promise you, too." She let go, and was happy to see Meizuki didn't turn away and was moreover clearly listening. "No matter what happens, I'll be here."_

_Meizuki said nothing, but her eyes shone with starlight. She believed her._

_Awazuki tried to smile, and found she could._

_"I'll always be here for you," she repeated as someone called out in the darkness, and the footsteps drew rapidly closer. "Always. I promise."_


	12. The Final Oath

Meizuki awoke to stillness.

She rose slowly, breathing in the dust of the shrine. She hadn't meant to sleep in the first place, but the familiar confines and her exhaustion had conspired to make her lie down on the floor and close her eyes nevertheless. Even now, a part of her longed to return to slumber.

No. There was far too much to do. She had already indulged herself long enough.

She straightened her clothes and exited the shrine. She very nearly collided with someone sitting on the porch.

"Good morning." said Gennouchi no Manako, wearing her usual cat-like smile. She leaned back to better take in Meizuki's expression. "I had a feeling... you would return here as soon as... the purification ritual was complete."

"Good morning." Meizuki nodded in acknowledgement. Lady Manako had never insisted on protocol.

"I hope you didn't... exert yourself."

Instinctively, Meizuki placed a hand on her stomach. "Not at all. I'm quite prepared for today."

She found it harder to smile at Lady Manako than she usually did. It was usually a trifle as long as she kept in mind everything she had come to learn of the spiritualist: her efficiency, her resourcefulness, and her steadfast dedication to her calling and allies alike. But then, it was no normal day, and Meizuki's reserves had been depleted to where she could only follow Lady Manako's lead and focus on the essentials.

"You still have... time to rest. The ritual will take place... at sunset. Shall we return to the village... together?"

Meizuki said not a word.

Lady Manako's lips curled further upward. "Or perhaps you have... another task to take care of?"

Meizuki met the stare of the three eyes aimed at her. "Will you judge me for it?"

Lady Manako chuckled and opened her fist. She traced the outline of the eye tattooed on her palm with her finger, a gesture Meizuki knew meant she was restful. "I am not to judge... those who fight by my side. I am quite certain where your loyalties lie. Do what you must to... enjoy yourself today. I only ask you do not... enter the woods unarmed. As many youkai as I have trapped... some may yet remain."

Meizuki said nothing until she had walked past Lady Manako and onto the courtyard. Though it had been meticulously reconstructed along with the shrine's edifice, she swore the ground was uneven under her feet. She halted and called the Hakurei Yin-Yang orb to her side.

"It's not a matter of enjoyment. It's a matter of restitution."

Lady Manako followed her with her eyes, but when Meizuki turned to look at her, she averted her gaze. "I will see you... at sunfall, Lady Meizuki."

Meizuki nodded and kept going.

Lady Manako called after her. "Just remember that we all must do... our duty. To exterminate youkai."

Meizuki walked onwards without reply, trying not to listen to the whispers echoing from the walls of the shrine.

* * *

Meizuki entered the copse with the orb hovering dutifully after her. She had trod a faint path in the damp grass, and now followed it without thought, her hands folded into her sleeves. The forest was alive with the dawn of summer: new green blossomed forth wherever the light touched the ground. She barely noticed. She did register that the woods were hushed, like the forest itself was holding its breath in anticipation. It could well be. For all of the exterminators' diligence, some youkai were bound to be lurking about, and they were certain to have caught whiff of their plans.

Meizuki lowered her gaze and kept moving. She dared them to bother her.

The path led to a small clearing. At its centre stood a large, vaguely rectangular rock. Meizuki had made an effort to smooth out its corners, and had put especial effort into the name she had carved onto the front. Even so, she could hardly see her handiwork in spite of knowing where to look: the corners remained jagged, the symbols barely visible.

A small stone bowl stood before the rock. Tufts of grass had sprouted around it since her last visit.

Meizuki crouched down and let the orb sink into the forest floor behind her. The bowl had filled with rainwater overnight. She let it be and pushed her palms together. The trees around her stilled as she began to pray.

"Here? Really?"

Meizuki's eyes flew wide open.

She knew the voice, of course. It was one that shouldn't have existed.

It took all her willpower to slowly rotate her head.

Awazuki looked much as she had during her last moments in life. Her hair was wildly askew, violently green and inhuman, and her clothes sported the same tears they had when she had perished. None of the stains, however; not even a hint of the fatal wound. Even so, there was no mistaking her for what she was now, especially since her feet hovered an entire inch above ground.

Awazuki crossed her arms. "You could have at least insisted I get buried in the family tomb."

Meizuki got up slowly, more slowly even than when she had first sat down. She lowered her head. Finally, she found her voice.

"Lady..." It would be safer to call Lady Manako by her clan name, she decided. "Lady Gennouchi thought it better that she arrange everything to do with your bodily remains."

Awazuki wrinkled her nose. "And you let her? Why?" She floated closer to the grave and peered at it with distaste. "You know, I don't think my body's even here. I bet you anything she dug a shallow grave and filled it with rocks just for your benefit."

Meizuki said nothing as Awazuki continued to hover around the grave, frowning at it and occasionally pausing to listen as if hoping to catch the sound of her bones underneath the soil. Finally, she spoke up. "Why are you here?"

Awazuki stilled. Her shoulders relaxed. She looked so solid Meizuki had no doubt she could reach out and touch her. "Right. I'm here to look after you."

Meizuki looked up and met the gaze of those eerie green eyes she had tried so hard to avoid. "What?"

Awazuki's smile was as bright as it had been in life. It felt like an arrow straight to the heart. "I mean, I'm sure it's because that creep didn't give me the proper rites, but at least it means I get to see you again. I was so scared she was going to kill you, too, but I guess she really is just a fool who can't tell the difference between a human and a youkai."

Meizuki swallowed. "But why now?"

"Why not now?"

"It's already been two years."

For the first time, Awazuki's ghost looked uncertain. She hovered right above the grave, staring first at it, then at Meizuki.

"...Two years?"

"Eight seasons exactly."

To that, Awazuki had no reply. Meizuki decided to let her be. If she doubted the truth, Awazuki needed only to look at Meizuki and see she had reached adulthood.

It didn't take long. Only a moment later, Awazuki was shaking her head like she was trying to rid herself of a buzzing fly. "It must have been her doing, too. She probably did something to my body to keep me from seeing you, while..." Here, she blinked rapidly. Either her eyelids were ever so slightly transparent, or her newly emerald eyes simply shone through, casting a faint green shadow on her face.

She hovered closer to Meizuki, heedless of the way she took a step backwards. "What about the barrier?! Is it still intact?"

Meizuki turned away, but nodded. "By the time enough people arrived to reinforce it, we found it to be so badly deteriorated even the most powerful of reinforcements would only sustain it for a couple of years more. We did what we could. Reishoumiya is safe."

"For a couple of years?"

"And for all perpetuity after tonight. Lady Gennouchi said — and I agreed — that if we couldn't fix the previous barrier, we ought to gather as many spiritualists as we could and create a new one entirely. We have done our research, sent for people all over the country, and today, we are prepared for the final ritual."

"Right. Good." Still, Awazuki remained there, looking sullen and not at all like a ghost whose unfinished business had been taken care of. "Though I don't see why _she_ has to be involved in it."

"She is an expert. I had to put Reishoumiya's safety before my own feelings." How easily the words flowed out of her, almost like she had been rehearsing them.

"Mm." It was a thoughtful sound rather than a suspicious one. So, some of Awazuki's sense of duty remained. Meizuki squashed the thought at once. It was a dangerous path to set foot upon. "At least she won't have an excuse to stomp around here afterwards."

Meizuki nodded curtly, the action seeming less like a lie than words. It could even be true: Lady Manako had hinted at other places ravaged by youkai also in need of a master exterminator.

And, with that, she found she had nothing more to say to her sister. No, not her sister. A lingering remnant of someone who, while not quite a youkai in life, was certainly no longer human.

She turned around and knelt down, ready to pray again. "Was that all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Reishoumiya is fine, as am I. If it will take care of your grudges, I can ensure Lady Gennouchi leaves the first thing tomorrow." She risked a glance over her shoulder. The ghost looked baffled. "Is there anything else, besides the rites, that you require to move on?"

Awazuki said nothing for a long while. Though there was only the slightest of breezes, her hair moved as though captured by a gale before settling down once more. Finally, she flashed another smile. An uncertain one. "There's no rush. Turns out, being a ghost isn't so bad. I can stay with you for as long as you like."

Meizuki stared at her sister, and felt a splash of an emotion she had felt about her many times before, but had never truly associated with her sister before her final days. It was anger. "I want you to pass on."

Awazuki didn't exactly take a step back, nor could she well blanch with her skin already a deathly pale. She did, however, flinch. "Why?"

"Because that is how it should be." Meizuki turned away and feigned falling into prayer. Seeing Awazuki was no easier than it had been at the beginning, when it had reminded her of how she had been torn away when she had desperately clutched her sister's already stiffening corpse, weeping till the early morning when she had finally fallen unconscious from sheer exhaustion. Now, however, it reminded her of other things. Of Awazuki's hopeless naïvety, in spite of being the eldest. Her shocking lack of propriety and manners. The thoughtless ways in which she made others feel small while claiming to help them.

And above all, her betrayal.

There had been times, especially whenever Meizuki had found herself standing over the body of a youkai she had slain, that she had felt a twinge of sympathy for the creature, possibly even entertained a hope that such deeds might not be necessary. She had considered, even after her mother's death, even after being almost killed by the shimmering monstrosity with vast wings and eyes that should not exist, that there might be a more humane way to keep the youkai at bay.

There _had_ been times. "The dead should not mingle with the living."

"I know, but..." Awazuki sighed. "Now that I'm dead, I'm not actually sure that's true. I was wrong about all youkai being wicked too, after all." She smiled once more. This time, it was a plea. "Besides, I'm already here, so..."

The anger was more than a splash, now. "You shouldn't be here."

Again, the words gave Awazuki pause. Then she eventually continued, it was in a much smaller voice. "Are you still angry with me?"

"How could I not be?" The words escaped from Meizuki's lips before she could stop them, more a sob than an exclamation. Once the first ones were uttered, there was no stopping the rest. "You consorted with youkai behind my back! You betrayed your own people! You killed five men!"

"In self-defence!" Though it was impossible, Awazuki turned a shade paler still. "Did you not see what they did to me?"

Meizuki shook her head. At times, during sleepless nights, she had imagined this very conversation. Only, she now discovered she had never wanted to hold it after all. "You broke your word."

To that, Awazuki had no answer.

Meizuki drew her hands to her sides and stood up, keeping her back towards Awazuki. She forced her voice calm by pretending she was speaking to a villager in need of reassurance. "Please go. I loved you, and I mourned your death as much as any sister ever has, but I trust you no longer. You don't belong in this world."

The ghost became so silent that Meizuki thought she had in fact turned and left, perhaps even faded to another world. Then, she spoke again, in a voice almost like a whisper.

"Why didn't you heal me?"

Meizuki stilled, then turned. "What?"

"Why didn't you heal me?" Till then, the ghost's voice had been much like Awazuki's in life, but now each syllable fell without echo. Her forehead was a map of creases. "You were there. You were holding me, and I spoke with you. You had ample time to use your powers to save me."

Meizuki had no answer. How could she have, after she had spent most of her time over the past eight seasons pushing that very question aside?

Awazuki, meanwhile, was only getting started. It was as though she had forgotten all about the circumstances of her death, only to have the memories rekindled by Meizuki's words. "That man you healed when we were children was far worse wounded than I was. You could have saved me."

She had to say something. "I cannot always control my powers."

"You didn't even try!" It was a wild accusation, as Awazuki had no way of knowing what Meizuki had done after she had drifted off for the final time, but she must have seen from Meizuki's expression that it hit its mark. He voice grew suddenly loud. "You never failed to use them when I was around, not even once. It was always the first thing you tried. Why wouldn't you at least..."

The agitation Awazuki had been working herself up to came to a sudden deafening halt.

"You let me die."

Meizuki found herself just as breathless as the ghost as the world turned utterly silent.

"You let me die," Awazuki repeated, as though as she needed to hear the words a second time to begin to believe in them. "You could have saved me and you didn't. But why..."

Meizuki bit her lip, her words dying before they even made it to her throat, as the ghost worked out the situation, eyes widening with disbelief.

"You wanted me to die."

With that proclamation, words finally returned to Meizuki. "No."

"There's no other explanation." The ghost was speaking to no-one but herself, looking more lost by the moment. "You conspired with that Gennouchi woman to hunt down Hijiri, and while you were at it, you thought you might as well exterminate me, as well."

"That's not how it went!" Meizuki's voice cracked on the _how_.

Awazuki jerked her head towards her. Her eyes were burning. "Then how did it go? Did you send those men yourself? Did you simply lie to her and tell her I was a youkai and needed to be put down?"

" _No."_ The effort to keep herself from raising her voice made Meizuki shudder, but she couldn't allow the situation to spiral further out of control.

It looked to be too late for that even before she could mount an excuse. Sharp electricity crackled through the air as Awazuki's hair began to billow all around her, her mouth twisting into a hateful grimace. "And then you come here and cry false tears over me, thinking you could fool me!"

"Sister, I swear—"

"You knew I wasn't going to become a youkai! You knew it! I always kept my word!"

"I couldn't trust you!"

Awazuki jerked her head back and remained silent.

Taking advantage of the sudden calm, Meizuki managed to smother her rising emotions. Though she had told herself not to let the ghost's resemblance to her sister fool her, she had let it happen nevertheless. You couldn't negotiate with youkai, regardless of who they had once been.

As surreptitiously as she could, she beckoned the Hakurei Yin-Yang orb closer to her side. Awazuki had to be dealt with one way or another, no matter how many further wounds to Meizuki's soul it took. "Even on that day, you had sneaked out to see that youkai nun. Even if I trusted your intentions, I couldn't trust your judgement."

"So it was better to have me killed." They were the first quiet words spoken by Awazuki since her fury had first risen. Too quiet. Too cold, too sharp.

Meizuki opened her mouth, unsure whether to agree with or deny the accusation. Before she could do either, she was struck by a gust of wind like a fist that knocked her off her feet.

"Yes, I see how it is." Awazuki's wrath was now tangible aura, one through which no words would get through, either screamed or whispered. Her hair had settled down, billowing softly around her as she rose further into the air. For the moment, she shimmered. "And even if you won't admit it, I can guess the real reason why."

Meizuki tried to move, to no avail; she was kept flattened to the undergrowth by what she could only imagine as a giant, invisible hand. She had bit the inside of her cheek as the force had toppled her, hard. Blood slowly seeped onto her tongue from the wound.

"That's the real reason I couldn't move on, isn't it? I bet some part of me knew all along and kept me here." The flames had been subdued: Awazuki's fury was now a freezing blade, sharp enough to cut bone.

She shrugged up her sleeve to reveal a thin knife, its tip encrusted with rust-coloured blood. "Once, I promised I would never leave you. I intend to keep that promise. I'll stay with you until your very last breath."

Meizuki took a deep breath. It was all she managed before Awazuki lunged towards her like a hawk at its prey. She couldn't even think. All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and wait for the blade to pierce her heart.

Only, the pain never came.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and was met with a radiance like sunlight. The Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb hovered in the air before her, radiating with power so immense it made every hair on her body stand on end. It took her a further moment to realise the weight on her had been lifted. She pushed herself up onto her elbows.

Awazuki remained, but she looked diminished, shying away from the orb like a shadow in daylight. She stared at it in utter disbelief, which, as Meizuki sat further up, slowly morphed into a strange, bitter expression.

"Even you would betray me?" Awazuki sounded entirely hollow. Meizuki couldn't tell whether she was addressing her or the orb. "Was no-one but Hijiri ever truly on my side? After everything I..."

Her shoulders slumped. The orb's glow relented somewhat, enough that Meizuki could now clearly see the emotions warring on Awazuki's face, the foxfire in her eyes flickering back and forth as she debated her next course of action.

After what felt like hours, the ghost straightened up to her full height. Her relentless, unblinking gaze locked with Meizuki's.

"I will promise you something. A promise I will never break." She paused for a moment, as if for a breath she no longer needed, then continued. "I won't go away until everyone involved in my death has perished. Until you and everyone of your blood is wasting away in whichever Hell you belong to. Until even your name is dead and buried. This, I swear."

Her tone was icy cold, uncompromising and determined. It couldn't quite hide the quivering catch to her voice, but it didn't need to; the words struck Meizuki to the marrow all the same.

"I swear," the ghost repeated, as if needing to convince herself more than she needed Meizuki. "I swear."

Then, just as abruptly as she had arrived, she was gone.

Long after birdsong had finally returned to the woods, Meizuki sat on the forest floor, breathing slowly.

* * *

"You were... slow to return, Lady Meizuki."

"We still have plenty of time," Meizuki replied curtly, avoiding Lady Manako's eyes. It was still sunfall, if only barely.

"Mmhm." Lady Manako turned her gaze away from Meizuki and towards the wilderness. "Are you... fully prepared? The others have... already gathered by the barrier."

"I'm ready." She had to be. "How much time do we have?"

"Until the sun has set entirely. There is... no rush as of yet, but perhaps we should depart. The solstice is... the best occasion we have."

As she spoke, Lady Manako's eyes drifted downwards. Meizuki was suddenly painfully conscious of her dirt-encrusted hakama and rumpled robes.

"...I'll get changed, first," she said. She had left some of her old clothes at the shrine. They should serve.

"Yes. Clean clothes are... customary for such rituals."

Meizuki cast a glance at Lady Manako's eclectic, but admittedly spotless outfit, then left the orb on the porch and entered the shrine for the second time that day.

The air felt heavier as she rummaged through her clothes, even oppressive. The Hakurei lineage stretched centuries into history, and the shrine building had long since gained a spirit of its own irrespective of all gods. It appeared to have fled now: the dusty corridors and panels were silent and motionless. She felt like a midget trespassing through the corpse of an oni as she crept back outside, dressed in clothes a hair too small but perfectly serviceable.

The orb awaited her where she had left it. Meizuki was about to call it to her side when she hesitated. Ignoring Lady Manako's inquiring stare, she began examining the family heirloom with great care.

It didn't take an expert to tell what had changed. When listened closely, the orb hummed with intense energy. Its aura glowed when Meizuki brought her hand towards it, tendrils of power stretching towards her, aching to be released.

Most of it was Awazuki's power, she realised slowly. Awazuki's collected strength and resolve. All that remained of Awazuki as she had once been: a shrine maiden of indomitable resolve and immense kindness, and the most wonderful of sisters...

Nothing awaited down that line of thought but darkness, and so she gathered the orb and joined Lady Manako's side. "There is something I need to tell you on the way."

Lady Manako listened without interruption. She smiled as they walked down the steps and began heading towards the cavern, only to snap to attention as soon as Meizuki mentioned Awazuki's ghost. Even then, she continued listening, saying not a word till Meizuki concluded by explaining her narrow escape, and the ominous promise Awazuki had made.

"This is..." She finally began after Meizuki fell silent, hesitating even longer than she usually did before continuing. "Rather unfortunate. I had hoped she would... remain sealed till the new barrier was erected."

Meizuki looked at her in surprise. "You did seal her, then."

Lady Manako nodded. "She was... full of lingering hatred, that one. A human on the cusp of becoming a youkai will, almost inevitably... become a youkai after death. Sealing her was... the best way to ensure she would stay put. Only..." She cast a sidelong glance at Meizuki. "I took great pains to ensure she would remain sealed at my pleasure. That you should see her now means... her powers have grown, even in captivity. No doubt, likewise, her malice..."

Meizuki shuddered.

"It cannot be helped. I will... hunt her down tonight, after the ritual is over. She must be sealed... much like Byakuren Hijiri was, or else... exterminated."

A sudden fear gripped Meizuki. "What if she intervenes with the ritual?"

Lady Manako gave her a thoughtful look. "You are... a better judge of that than I am. However, it sounded to me, based on your words, that she clings... to some semblance of her past self. Would she wish... to destroy everyone she once protected?"

Meizuki said nothing. She truly didn't know.

"Do not fear. If she does intervene... well..." Lady Manako smiled her cat-like smile. "We do have a gathering of the greatest spiritualists in the history of Japan at our disposal. No youkai can match... our collective prowess."

"Yes."

Lady Manako smiled. "If nothing else, it would prove once and for all that you made... the right decision, Lady Meizuki."

"Yes."

"Even if she had lived... she would have become a youkai in very short order."

"Yes."

"No doubt that was the youkai's aim all along. What better way to ensure... the gateway to their realms is opened once more than to corrupt... those devoted to guarding it?"

"Yes..."

Lady Manako halted suddenly and placed a hand on Meizuki's shoulder. Meizuki froze, startled by the gesture. "Lady Meizuki. Tonight, we will guarantee... the expulsion of the youkai. It is... our sacred duty."

Meizuki nodded. She even managed to meet Lady Manako's eyes.

They walked the remaining stretch of the journey in silence.

It was the first time Meizuki had seen everyone involved in raising the barrier in the same place at once. She was at once overwhelmed, both by the chatter and by the sheer number of eyes focusing on her and Lady Manako as they approached the crowd. She tried to keep her nervousness at bay by nodding at everyone whose eyes she met directly, trying to recall each of their names. She had forgotten most of them, but it hardly mattered; all these priests, monks, exorcists, and holy people would leave Reishoumiya for good by the end of the week, leaving Meizuki alone to pick up the pieces of her life.

Lady Manako guided her to their place by the human-warding barrier the youkai had erected, sailing through the crowds with the deftness of an experienced sea-farer. Meizuki followed mutely, looking on as Lady Manako instructed everyone else to take their places likewise. She was glad the exterminator had taken the reins as she had, and found herself once more admiring Lady Manako's poise. She spent the time it took for the others to organise looking around, noting with grim amusement that there was a large gap between her and the barefoot ascetic to her left, big enough to fit another person. If she hadn't met Awazuki's ghost before, before, she would have imagined her hovering there now, taking her part in the push to finally make Reishoumiya safe.

She chanted the words of the ritual without thinking, only half listening to the chorus of the greatest spiritual leaders of the land speaking them with her. She had memorised them well enough, and instead focus on Lady Manako. The exterminator's eyes gleamed as she she raised her hands to channel her power, resplendent in the divine glow that slowly enveloped them all.

As it went on, Meizuki's misgivings melted away. The power she channelled left her to join those of the others, forming a faint outline of the barrier. She lost all track of time, focusing on nothing but the chant, her mouth speaking the words on its own accord as the outline slowly metamorphosed into a glowing net, then a shimmering field, reflecting all the colours of the rainbow.

Then, quite abruptly, she became aware of a different light source. The Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb had left its spot behind her and was now hovering directly before her. She was quite certain she hadn't commanded it to do so. As she stared, it shone all the more brightly, as though trying to rival not just the barrier, but the setting sun itself.

Before she had time to do anything about it, to even react to it with anything more than a blink, the ritual came to an end.

The ground shook. The gathered spiritualists eyed one another, still wearing their expressions from the moment of triumph, when a force like an immense tsunami washed over them all.

Meizuki felt, dimly like a in a dream, like she was being engulfed by the great golden glow of the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb. She was quite sure it was an illusion her mind had concocted to make her final moments less agonising: everywhere around her, her allies were being unravelled by the backlash of the ritual, torn to pieces by a reflection of their own power. She saw Lady Manako stagger and fall, bleeding from the corners of her eyes, landing right next to the orb.

It was the last thing she saw before the orb too unleashed all of its gathered power. Its glow became her entire world.

Then, nothing.

* * *

_"Long ago, powerful mountaineering ascetics, exorcists, and spiritual leaders from all areas of the country gathered in order seal away youkai, demons, and other creatures from their land..."_


	13. Interlude: Time, the Subtle Traitor

In the end, it all boiled down to a single question, one she couldn't answer any better now than she had in the first place. But she had time. She had more time than she ever could have asked for.

_I'm Hakurei no Awazuki. I wish to seek revenge against those who wronged me._

For a long time, she entertained the possibility she had simply flown off the handle. Meizuki hadn't betrayed her. She _had_ tried to heal her, only Awazuki hadn't noticed. Or, at the very least, she had been so heavily pressured by the exterminator she had had no choice but to look away.

_I'm Hakurei no Awazuki. I wish to seek revenge against those who wronged me._

It didn't make sense. She was making excuses that didn't even erase Meizuki's betrayal. But then...

Why?

_I'm Hakurei no Awazuki. Each day, another fragment of me peels off and plummets into the abyss. But I have to remember._

Envy. Meizuki had been so strangely subdued after Awazuki had taken over most of her duties. But there had been nothing to be jealous of! Had she really thought Awazuki could ever reach the same amount the reverence the villagers felt towards her?

Why?

_I'm Hakurei no Awazuki. I wish to seek revenge._

Spite. Meizuki _had_ hated her, enough to let her die. Even though Awazuki hadn't been a youkai. Even though Awazuki hadn't betrayed anyone. She should have stood her ground when Meizuki accused her in the first place. She had had every intention of remaining human...

_I'm Hakurei no Awazuki. I..._

It had been because her sister had been human. A petty, spiteful human. Did it matter if it had been revulsion or jealousy, or even some misguided sense of duty? Did it matter that she too had once been of their kind?

She had been wronged. She would never forgive them. The Hakurei clan...

_I'm..._


	14. Reincarnation

"The crows are restless today."

The farmer looked up from his work, his frown deepening the longer he examined the horizon. Today as yesterday, the dusk had come too fast. "You reckon?"

His companion, his friend from earliest childhood, nudged his shoulder in the direction of the nearest woods. "Can't you hear them?"

The farmer tilted his head. Now that he was paying attention, he could indeed hear the cacophony echoing from the distance. It sounded like the birds had stumbled across a carcass and were now arguing who got the choicest cuts.

He put his head back down. "Better ignore them." Still, hearing crows was preferable to not hearing them while still knowing they were there. You never knew when they would fly to the mountain at the end of the day and report their findings to the mountain people.

"One more row," the farmer reminded his friend when kept staring in the direction of the din, and heard him groan as he returned to tending the paddy. His bad back was acting up again, no doubt.

The farmer crouched down further and tended to the weeds, resisting the temptation to look around. The faster they were done catching up, the sooner he'd get to return home. He had been blessed with a clever, gentle wife, and happy, thoughtful children, all of whom were surely waiting for him to return at that very moment. Besides, his feet had been soaked for so long they were beginning to grow scales.

"My grandmother could weed faster than you," his friend groused in a monotone, plaintive voice.

"Your grandmother, if her stories are true, once weeded an entire field before her rival managed a single row," the farmer replied, too tired and distracted to even raise his voice. He looked at the work ahead and gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. Half a row, and then we'll go."

"Excuse me!"

He looked from his toil to see a tall figure waving at them from the road. He exchanged looks with his friend, then shrugged and approached the figure, who in turn waited patiently for his arrival.

The voice was a woman's, but the traveller would have been tall even for a man. Closer up, the farmer saw the imposing height partially explained by long-toothed geta, but even without them, she would have towered above him. She wore no hat: instead, she had fashioned together a collection of scarves and rags to shield herself from the sun. It also left her face and hair completely obscured. Otherwise, her clothes merited no attention. She had strapped a pair of hand-scythes to her back. An itinerant worker, or at least someone dressed as one.

"Greetings, stranger." Surely a murderer or a mugger wouldn't approach two people at once while the sun was only beginning to set? "If you're looking for work, you've come to the right place. We could always use an extra pair of hands."

The traveller chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, but I already have a job promised to me further down the road." Spoken like a young person, with a hint of an Edo accent. "I only meant to ask if the village is still far away."

"If you continue down the road, you will reach it before sunfall."

The traveller straightened her back, and the farmer saw that no, she hadn't even stood at her full height. Were all people from Edo this tall? "That's what I was hoping to hear. Thanks very much."

She was already making to leave when the farmer cleared his throat. "Perhaps, ma'am, you ought to wait till we can go with you. The road has not been safe lately."

"Huh." The traveller turned back, with newfound curiosity in her posture. "Bandits?"

"Worse. Youkai." He lowered his voice without meaning to. "It wasn't so bad here before as long as you got home before dark, but lately... there's a new evil spirit who haunts the woods here. It lashes out from there to attack anyone who travels alone, and it's only through blind luck that no-one has died to it yet. In fact, our shrine maiden just left to seek help from the provincial capital to exorcise it."

"Interesting." The traveller observed the woods as though expecting the hideous wraith to pop up from underneath the nearby gingko any moment now.

"It usually prowls in the night, but even daylight doesn't thwart it." The farmer shook his head. "In fact, we were just about to quit for the day and hasten home before it has the opportunity to surprise us."

The traveller laughed. It was a kindly sound, one of good humour rather than mockery. Even so, the farmer's skin rose to goose bumps.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about me." Her hand ghosted over her headscarf. A lock of hair the colour of bright roses escaped from its binding and fell upon her forehead.

The farmer shuddered as the conversation took a fresh meaning.

The youkai's smile widened, as though she relished his apprehension. The setting sun reflected crimson off her eyes. "Thanks anyway. I'll be on my way."

Soon, only the dust clouds above the road suggested the youkai had ever been there.

Long after the farmer had already plunged his hands back into the paddy, trying not to think of anything but work, his friend stood on the side of the field and stared where the youkai had vanished. "Wonder what she wants from here?"

"I don't care." The farmer tugged at the weeds in his hand so violently they left abrasions on his palm. It hurt less than the guilt gnawing at him. How could he have been so foolish as to give instructions to where his family was to a youkai? Even knowing that keeping his peace would likely have changed nothing, it still felt like handing the creature a blade.

There was a sullen pause before his friend continued. "She seemed friendly enough."

"Would you pet a tiger if it smiled at you? Get back to work."

His friend sighed once more, but did as he was told. The farmer focused on the task at hand, doing all he could to drown out the crowing echoing from the woods, as well as the burning question his friend had voiced and to which he had no answer.

Why would a youkai travel to their far-off village?

* * *

Spirits didn't sleep, but the ghost had discovered they could daydream. She had spent the past several hours drifting in pleasant haze, one that nearly distracted her from what had been bothering her for days now.

Namely, that she was bored out of her mind.

Of course, it was to be expected. The poxy woods and the insignificant village she was haunting at present moment were never a land of thrills. The only point of interest was the barrier, a venerable border not far from the village blocking an entrance to what she suspected was an entrance to Makai. As she was yet to find a way to penetrate it, she couldn't actually be sure, but whatever it was, she couldn't bring herself to care.

And that was about it. Apart from some turf wars with the local youkai and the occasional bold human she would scare back towards civilisation, she was mostly left alone — well, apart from the lesser spirits that tended to gather around her and even now filled the dim woods with their ethereal glow, but those rated somewhere between fireflies and woodlice as far as company went — left quite alone to hover, and ponder, and try to understand what it was about this place that kept drawing her back to it. It certainly wasn't the atmosphere. Or the rain.

At least there would be no rain that night. She let her feet dissolve as she rose towards the darkening sky, already anticipating the first star. It was a sad state of affairs that witnessing a full moon had become the highlight of her month, but she told herself it was just a phase. Whatever was making it so difficult for her to hold onto all those fluid details about goals and plans would go away in time, and then all would make sense again. Till then, it was about killing time.

Still, the muddled uncertainty had become overwhelming. Her eyes drifted towards where the ancient shrine loomed hidden behind the trees, and she received a jolt of attentiveness as thanks. Yes, this place was important. But why?

"Do you mind more company?"

The ghost swivelled her head. A tall stranger stood behind at the edge of the clearing, her features obscured by a long scarf. As the ghost squinted at her, the stranger pulled the scarf backwards, revealing a sleepy smile and crimson eyes, and hair that looked like it had been dyed with blood and then bleached out again.

"Not a human, I take it?" the ghost said, making no effort to descend from her invisible perch.

The stranger chuckled. "Can't say I've ever been accused of being one. Is that a problem?"

The ghost shrugged. She didn't feel like starting a fight, but she was sure that when she made the gesture, the stranger caught the glint of the knife in her hand. "Make yourself at home. Just remember whose home this actually is."

The stranger did as she was bid, finding a suitable patch of ground and sitting down on it cross-legged. As soon as she had settled down, she stretched her arms and sighed contentedly.

"Sure feels good to sit down for a change." She gave her upper body one last shake. She looked at the hovering spirits for a while, then turned her attention towards the ghost. "So, you live here?"

"For now." The ghost didn't really know what to think of the stranger. When was the last time someone had casually sauntered over to her just to exchange banalities? Never, she supposed. Surely there was something else at play. "You're not too shy, are you?"

The stranger laughed. "Can't say I am. Think that's why humans always seem to know me for what I am?"

"I couldn't say. I have little idea of how they think, and care even less." The ghost took a moment to feign indifference by observing her reflection from the knife. The green eyes and pale eyes distorted by the shape of the metal were familiar enough, but even now, she could hardly fathom it was herself she was seeing. But what did she expect to see? It was a strange feeling, like reaching out to take something only to remember your hand is still ethereal from your previous spell. "Nor do I have many opportunities to study. Few humans are foolish enough to venture here."

"Especially if the rumours I heard are true." The stranger smiled as she continued, observing the ghost keenly. "There were murmurs about a terrifying evil spirit half a day's travel away."

The ghost did her best to keep her smirk from spreading across her entire face. "I suppose that's humans for you. Brandish a knife at one and have all the rest flee from you in terror. I'm sure you know that from experience."

The stranger chuckled. "You know it." She observed the surrounding trees in silence for quite a while before continuing. "Do you think they're less scared of us than before? Of youkai in general, I mean."

"I have noticed no such thing," the ghost replied at once, trying not to think of why her frame of reference for the question felt so thin. Still, she was confident in her reply. "In my experience humans are terrified of everything."

"Well, that's true." The stranger tilted her head. "But really, why are we talking about scaring humans when there are none around?"

"Good point. Let's discuss something more interesting. Like specks of sand. Or mildew."

The stranger smiled again. "So, what brings you to this place? Did you die here?"

"I doubt it." She had considered the possibility, of course. It would explain why she was so drawn to the village. But surely, if this was where she was born, her arrival ought to have rekindled some memories.

She realised, quite abruptly, that the stranger was once again giving her a strangely observant look. She quickly changed tacks. "As a matter of fact, I'm here to look at the stars."

"Stars?" The stranger looked up at the clear night sky. The first of the stars had emerged from their behind their veils. "Oh. I see what you mean."

"They're brighter here than anywhere else in the region," the ghost explained, glad to find herself on a solid foundation for once. She returned to the ground to better point out awakening constellations. "The fabric of reality is thinner here, and so they shine more brightly. If you look to the south, you can already see the drum."

The stranger peered at the barely visible Orion with a look of intense concentration, then nodded. For a while, silence was allowed to reign, wrapping them in its comforting familiarity. The ghost almost begun to enjoy herself, basking there in the moonlight.

And then, the stranger had to go and speak again. "You must have loved the stars when you were alive."

"I suppose so." The ghost paused, ignoring the stranger in favour of the stars. "I like them now. That's all that matters."

"Sorry. I suppose you don't like talking about your past."

"I don't care about it one way or the other," the ghost said airily, hoping the stranger would get the hint.

"That makes sense." The stranger stood up, then. The ghost had always been tall, but even hovering above the ground as she did, the stranger's eyes were on level with hers. "After all, you probably don't remember any of it."

The ghost shot her a dirty look. Her sixth sense, which had been whispering to her since the stranger's sudden appearance, now ceased its subtle hinting and plainly told her it was time to leave.

The ghost held her ground.

The stranger chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." Slowly, she removed the hand scythes strapped to her back. "I don't really like doing this after getting to talk to you, but it happens to the best of us. Maybe we can pick this up again later."

The ghost squared her shoulders. "Who the hell are you?"

The stranger laughed again. It was a bright, appealing laugh. The ghost didn't much care for it. "Hell's right, my friend. Hell's right."

There was a flash of light, like a sudden bolt of lightning. In the next moment, the was only one scythe, taller even than the stranger, its blade so sharp it was almost transparent. The stranger brandished it with ease with one hand alone as she untied the shawl around her shoulders and tossed it aside.

She adopted a comfortable pose. "I'm Komachi Onozuka, first-class reaper working as an auxiliary to the kishin department." She winked at the ghost. "Nice to meetcha."

"Hmph." The ghost brandished her own blade, forcing herself to relax till the act became reality. A god of death holding her at scythe-point? An hour later it would simply be another anecdote to tell her associates. At least, she imagined it would have to be. What did a shinigami want with her? "Why introduce yourself so late? What are you trying to hide?"

Komachi looked sheepish. "I wasn't hiding anything, really. If you'd attacked me outright, I'd already be on my way home after a job well done. But since you're so far gone..." She rolled her shoulders. "I thought I might take things at my own pace for a change."

"And does any of this have to do with me?" Even then, the ghost did have some inkling about what it all about, but the concept was so faint it might have just been another shadow. She was quite sure she had never met Komachi before, but something about her words rang a distant bell.

"We can't really let people run around Earth like they belong there, you know? Too much hassle for everything. Especially when the ghost has proven violent." She made a few practice swings with her scythe to demonstrate her point. The air made an audible sound when sliced by the blade. "We don't have to fight, really. You can come quietly, too. It's much nicer than the alternatives."

"Right. First of all, I have no idea what you're talking about. Second..." Without hesitation, the ghost pointed the knife at Komachi. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Even now, Komachi smiled. "I knew you would say that." She raised her scythe, then held it in place. "I know it's unpleasant, but Hell frees you from your karma and lets you try again later. It's the same for everyone."

"I'm sure I've already paid for my sins."

Komachi sighed. "I don't have the scrolls with your details on them with me. I'm not supposed to show them to the dead, anyway. But I did glance at them, and another glance at you makes it obvious. You still carry plenty of karma on your shoulders."

"I don't believe a word of it."

"Really? Let's see..."

They began circling one another, casually, almost like initiating a slow-moving dance. Komachi held her scythe with ease, like it was a prop rather than a deadly weapon. The ghost followed in suit while the gathered spirits hovered nearer, observing the movements in mute indifference. If worst came to worst, she had her spells to fall back on.

"Where to begin..." Komachi's brow furrowed. Perhaps she really didn't remember all the details. "Before you died, you claimed the lives of five people."

The ghost didn't miss a single step.

"You managed to linger on earth afterwards, and had apparently gotten the taste for blood. You killed another human, entirely unrelated to the manner of your death, and painted the forest floor with his guts." Komachi's grin gained a macabre edge. "Might have happened on this very spot for all I know."

By then, they had traded places from where they had begun. They continued dancing.

"After that... You couldn't gain access to your direct target, so you went for an indirect one. You took him and drove spikes through his eyes, then finally killed him. You left what was left of him hanging upside down from a rooftop."

Another revolution.

"And after that... you kept picking off villagers one by one... all villagers from the same small village, naturally. "Men, women, children... if there was a pattern, my boss couldn't see it. He said you were indiscriminate."

Yet another exchange of places.

"By then, the villagers had had enough and pooled together what little wealth they had to summon an exorcist. It took him six weeks to arrive. Then you killed him, too."

Their circle had contracted, but neither ghost nor shinigami moved to take the first strike.

"Finally, an exorcist appeared you couldn't just destroy. She succeeded in uncovering your identity and removing you from the human plane. You finally arrived before us to receive your judgement. And you were indeed judged."

They paused simultaneously. The air crackled with a chill that didn't belong to the season.

"And now, you're here." With languid movements, Komachi adopted a posture more suitable for battling. "Did that jog your memories?"

The ghost didn't bother to respond. She wished she could have smirked and told Komachi she had told her nothing she didn't already, but the fact it all sounded so wholly unfamiliar troubled her even more than the strangeness of her reflection did. Maybe it was nothing but a pack of lies. Who would forget being judged for their sins? And if that had happened, why was she here and not in the Netherworld?

"I doubted it would." Something about Komachi had changed. She was still smiling, but the expression lacked its previous warmth. "You have two options. Either you come with me to face the music, or..."

She needn't continue. The ghost didn't have to have personal experience of it to recognise the threat of being extinguished.

"Right. So you say." The ghost's veins, bereft of blood, now surged with magic that made her skin crackle. "My question is, do you have the strength to back up your words?"

Komachi grinned, cheery again. "Honestly?"

All of a sudden, she let her stance drop. Holding the scythe to her side, she shrugged. "Honestly, I think I do. But I don't care to test it if I don't have to."

The ghost was so jarred by this that she nearly fell to the ground. She caught herself just in time. "Huh?"

"Fighting's all well and good, but I've been tracking you down for ages, and I'm tired." To punctuate her words, Komachi yawned. "Feels like a waste of time, with you as far gone as you are and all. If it had taken me even a few weeks longer, there wouldn't have been anything to take back in the first place."

A rare emotion crept to the forefront of the ghost's mind. Trepidation. She sneered twice as intensely. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to frighten me into compliance."

"I'm telling you the truth, sister. Basically, either you'll come with me and eventually reincarnate properly, or," finally, Komachi's smile dropped, if only slightly, "you'll stay here as your mind rots into mush. You know, like these guys."

She pointed to one of the lesser spirits. This one more a more distinctly ghostly shape than most. It even had face, a vacuous one with its tongue hanging out. As Komachi and the ghost observed it, it began to to slowly spin in the air, its beady eyes unseeing.

The ghost slowly turned to face Komachi. "You lie."

"Nope. All these spirits," she gestured at the glowing cavalcade with her spare hand, "were once proper ghosts. They lingered around for too long, forgetting their past, their goals, and finally that they had ever lived. Once that happens, you're beyond salvation. See this?"

She leaned ahead and poked the lolling spirit. It kept floating as though nothing had happened.

A sudden chill took hold of the ghost. Komachi was lying, of course. It couldn't possibly be true.

But... what if?

"Well, you've been around them enough to know what they're like," Komachi continued. "No memories, no goals, nothing but vacant space and tiny vestiges of humanity. I'm not sure they're even aware of themselves." She looked straight at the ghost again, her eyes shining. "The same happens to nearly all ghosts that exist outside Higan and the Netherworld, and given how far your memory loss has advanced, you're down the same path and fast. A couple of months, tops, and your mind will be irrecoverably gone."

The ghost noticed she had been fidgeting with her knife. She stopped. "Do you honestly think you can trick me with mere words? I won't believe you till you prove it."

"I can do that. Five minutes ago, I told you what you did just before your death. Can you repeat what I said?"

The ghost rolled her eyes, but as she opened her mouth, the annoyance gave way to confusion. She fell silent and still, her grip around her knife slackening.

"See? You're so faded the knowledge slides right out of your mind again. Without your name, you have no hope of recovering your past, and there isn't a single soul in all eighteen levels of Hell who can tell what it was." Komachi shrugged. "Then again, at this point you probably couldn't retain it even if the enma who judged you came here and told you your name in person."

The ghost hesitated. Even now, she didn't want to believe it, but there was something brutally honest about Komachi's manner that fuelled her fears. She looked at the floating spirits with fresh eyes.

Eventually, she broke the silence. Just because she had forgotten what Komachi had said about her past didn't mean she had forgotten everything she had said. "..You said that almost all ghosts in the human realm transform into... these." She cast a sideways glance at the mindless ghosts. Komachi nodded. "In other words, it doesn't happen to all of us. What's their secret?"

Komachi chuckled again. It was a far cry from her earlier laugh. "I'm supposed to coax you to come back, not assist you to escape. Besides, I don't actually know why it happens. Just that it happens once in a blue moon. It's almost certainly too late for you, anyway. So..."

She extended her arm. "Come with me. You're close to reincarnation. You don't have to worry about your mind turning to rot once you've earned a new life. You just might be a human again."

The ghost's fist clenched around the knife's handle. She met Komachi's eyes head-on. "No. I will rather lose myself for good than become one of them. I will stay here."

She braced herself for a battle, long delayed. Only, it appeared to have been delayed even further: Komachi leaned heavily against her scythe.

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"What?" The ghost blinked at Komachi. The shinigami sure had a way of surprising her. "What about your duty?"

"Are you saying you want to fight? We can for a bit, if you want, but I'm really not feeling it. Or this job." Komachi sighed. "My boss never stops complaining about how I wander around too much and never reach my quota. If I let you go, I'll definitely get demoted."

The ghost stared at her. "Then... why are you doing this?"

Komachi laughed. It was the genuine laugh again. The ghost discovered she had almost missed it. "I could use the change. Lucky you, huh?" She grinned. "Now go before I change my mind and haul you back."

The ghost didn't budge an inch. Surely, this had to be a trick. "Let me get this straight. You'll leave me in peace and lose your job?"

"They'll probably make me a river guide or something, yeah. I've actually wanted to try that for some time now." Komachi tilted her head. "Might try to get moved to work under a different enma while I'm at it. My current boss doesn't give a toss about anything other than being the most efficient enma of all. You'd never believe he was once a jizou. I'd rather work under someone who actually cares. And maybe doesn't mind me working at my own pace."

The ghost was about to say she couldn't imagine many enma who were any different, but she kept it to herself. Who cared as long as it got Komachi off her back? Her mind was already whirling, considering her options.

"So, yeah. You're free to go." Komachi raised her scythe so that the ghost had an unobstructed view of it. "Only, abuse your remaining time and I'll come back and cut you into ribbons faster than you can say Avici."

"Big words from someone about to be sacked."

"Demoted, not sacked." Komachi appeared to consider something. "And even if he doesn't demote me, I'm going to apply for a transfer anyway. It's time for a change, I think."

The ghost said nothing. She had been thinking about it all this time, obviously, but only now did it truly sink in. If Komachi truly meant to let her go, it meant she really didn't have much time left. And that meant...

"No need to look so glum," Komachi said, shaking the ghost from her thoughts. Her bright smile had returned, with just a hint of an edge. "You can still come with me if you want."

The ghost contemplated Komachi for a moment. She shook her head.

"Thought as much." And with that, Komachi turned to leave. She glanced back at the ghost over her shoulder. "I don't know how long you've got, so make the most of it, okay?"

The sound of her footsteps was soon swallowed by the undergrowth. The ghost remained on the ground, taking in the moonlight.

* * *

Yuuka didn't so much as glance at the ghost. "Your name?"

"Yes, my name." The ghost hovered impatiently next to Yuuka. "Can you tell me what my name is?"

There was a long pause as Yuuka ignored the question in favour of tending to the sunflowers. There was a serene, meditative quality to her tender handling of the plants. Had the ghost had blood, it would have made it boil.

Finally, with the sunflower blossom still cupped between her hands, Yuuka faced the ghost. "I'm afraid I cannot. You never told me what it is."

The ghost's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

They descended back to the ground. The soles of Yuuka's geta hit the dirt, while the ghost's long tail remained some inches from the ground. Around them Mugenkan, Yuuka's personal dream dimension, burgeoned with all the hues of the plant world. The realm was filled with the most beautiful flowers from every corner of the world, always in magnificent bloom regardless of the weather in the outside world. The only flower-free spots were the large mansion Yuuka slept in — for fun, according to Yuuka herself — and the countless narrow paths sprawling all over the place. Yuuka took one of those paths now, admiring the flowers as she walked. The ghost floated after her.

"I must have you told you what it was," the ghost insisted.

"I'm certain you did not." Yuuka paused and pulled back the long sleeves of her elaborate robes and stroked a light pink rose blossom with her fingers. "Even if you did, it has been centuries. It cannot have been a very memorable name if you cannot remember it yourself." She narrowed her eyes. "In fact, I'm not certain you're the person I think you are. Are you the spirit who came over here with an army of lesser ghosts and thought haunting my flowers was a good way to pass the time?"

The ghost folded her arms and tried to remember. "That sounds possible," she admitted, "and I definitely remember you."

This awarded her an amused smirk from Yuuka. "You remember me in spite of not remembering your own name?"

"It happens." As she said so, the ghost fell into a dark funk. Yuuka was the most long-standing of her acquaintances, and thus her best hope for reclaiming her name. If she didn't know it either, then... "I probably won't remember you for much longer, either."

Yuuka gave her a level look, then sauntered over to a nearby well and filled the pail next to it to its brim with cool water. It wasn't the first time the ghost found herself wondering why the flowers of Mugenkan required water and trimming. She supposed tending to the perfect garden was a part of Yuuka's dream, but why not simply use her powers to do so? "Why is that?"

The ghost shrugged. She might as well tell the truth. "I was told that I'm about to lose my identity. Re-learning my name could help me keep it."

There was silence again as Yuuka watered the roses. "What do you remember?"

"My purpose," said the ghost at once. "Humans. I must exact my revenge upon humans."

"Ah, humans." Yuuka licked her lips as she put the pail down. "They're fun to bully, but they wither away so easily. Nowadays, I much prefer to target youkai and fairies. I can recommend the same to you. It's so much more... satisfying."

"No, it has to be humans. There is a reason..."

"Yes?"

The ghost opened her mouth, but no answer came. There was a reason, she knew. Or at least there had been one.

Yuuka waited much longer than the ghost would have liked before shrugging and continuing down the path. "It sounds like you are lost indeed, my dear ghost."

The ghost followed again, trying not to give in to the gnawing feeling inside her. "That's just the thing. If I can't remember my name, I can't remember my reasons. And if I can't remember my reason, I can't remember why I'm here. And if I can't remember my purpose for being here..." She didn't elaborate. No doubt someone as ancient as Yuuka already knew. "Are you absolutely certain you can't remember my name?"

"I'm afraid so."

The ghost sighed. Annihilation had just inched that much closer. "Then I need a new lead."

"Hmm..." Yuuka brushed her fingers through her long green curls. If the ghost squinted, she could pretend they were vines. "So, you have lost your identity? I wonder..."

"You saying that it isn't true?"

"No, that is not what I am saying. Only that..." She turned to give the ghost a beatific smile. "If you simply require an identity, it hardly has to be your old one."

The ghost stared as Yuuka continued, giggling. "I know this must sound strange coming from a youkai, but under these circumstances, I believe you can change who you are. At this point, you cannot be risking much."

As slowly as Yuuka glided down the path, a significant gap had formed between them by the time she turned to look at the ghost again. "That is what I would do in your place. Keep what little you remember and change the rest." Her smile blossomed. "Never forget you're no longer human. You're free."

* * *

It was well in the witching hour, under the canopy of stars, when the ghost finally made up her mind. She unfurled herself against the sky and gazed at the world beneath her.

Could it really be that easy to laugh in the face of oblivion? Simply keep what she still had and change the rest?

Why not? It was worth a try.

What did she remember? Not much. The past few months, perhaps, preceded by mere fragments and impressions. They would have to do.

She remembered the need for vengeance. She remembered wrath. She remembered a pair of bright blue eyes...

And she remembered her magic.

_"Never forget you're no longer human. You're free."_

The ghost smirked.

Now, all she needed was a name...

What had risen to the sky that night was a nameless ghost.

What took flight towards the waning moon was something quite different altogether.


	15. Within a Sulfurous Cleft

Yellow vapour steamed forth from every crack and dent in the cavern's floor, obscuring everything further than two feet away. To a human, it would have been a concern: the amount of sulphur in the air would at the very least resulted in laboured breathing if not death.

To Mima, such concerns were as distant as her past. As it happened, she was not thinking of breathing at all, but instead considered whether to weave a spell to enhance her vision. She decided against it. She was yet to encounter anything of interest in these depths, and by now was wondering if she ever would. Besides, the endless seas of bright colours were getting on her nerves. The last thing she needed to do was to see them more clearly.

Her outstretched hand struck against the uneven wall of the cavern. Hugging it, she found a narrow tunnel leading further down, curiously free of sulphur. The tunnel was lined with an unfamiliar material: as craggy and rough as the stone the cavern was burrowed into, but faintly purple.

Mima traced her hand over the surface, expecting to find traces of ancient spells which might have discoloured the stone. Nothing. Curious, but of no particular interest. She was here for one thing only: to discover any sources of power carelessly left behind during the relocation of Hell. Purple stone wasn't going to help her there.

With that in mind, she descended into the depths.

The walls became smoother as she proceeded, while the ground grew more uneven. It was almost like the two surfaces had swapped places.

Mima smiled to herself. Of all possible things, this minor irritant was the most difficult part of her journey so far. Bypassing the gossamer-thin barrier by the abandoned entrance had been child's play. Bypassing the new Hakurei shrine maiden had been even simpler. A slip of a girl from a distant branch family, forced to take the post after yet another main line had been snuffed out and still unaccustomed to Gensokyo. She hadn't stood a chance. Almost took the sport out of it.

Almost.

Though her clothes were as immaterial as she wished them to be, Mima gathered her skirts and stepped over the rocks, paying no more mind to why, of all possible humans, one particular family stuck in her craw. She had learned to rely on her instincts in such matters.

Whether allowing your ethereality to show was to declare your superior status, or a crass breach of etiquette that no self-respecting spirit should ever stoop to, was a matter of some contention among ghosts. Mima personally couldn't care less. She'd walk her own path as always, and if that part was to appear mostly human to better startle fools, she didn't see how it was anyone's business but her own. To further the illusion, she had allowed her fluid tail to congeal into a pair of legs, just barely visible from underneath her long skirt. As a bonus, having feet gave her a better feel of the ground and thus of any potential deposits of magic within in.

She gently landed over a particularly high cluster of rocks. Still nothing. Never mind that. The tunnel was widening again, to what looked to be another vast hall.

Mima wrinkled her nose as she kept moving, trying and failing to recognise the strange smell emanating from ahead. Though she couldn't remember it, she had been to Hell before — though probably not to this particular closed-off nook. The fact that she couldn't rely on her past experiences beyond the past two centuries frustrated her greatly. She could summon forth vague memories at times, but retaining anything before her fateful encounter with Komachi Onozuka was like trying to hold water in her hands: a few drops might remain, but the bulk of it would always flow away through her fingers.

She tried anyway, calling forth any memories of a hall within Hell with purple stone walls. Finding none, she was just about to roll her eyes at herself when she heard a flat, metallic knell from somewhere far ahead. Pricking her ears, she heard something that sounded like a large wheel rolling ahead, accompanied by a distant grunt.

She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. There had been talk of stragglers in former Hell: Ministry officials left behind to oversee the abandoned area, oni who had refused to migrate and now roamed the realm as though it was a playground, even sinners who had evaded the kishin slated to move them and now haunted their former prison uninhibited. But this? She was far off the beaten path. Who, exactly, lurked in these depths?

She exited the tunnel, then halted. Though prepared for everything, she hadn't expected a field of flickering purple flames, so vast she could barely see the opposite wall.

She held her hand tentatively over the nearest flame. It did no harm to her skin; thus, she entered the field. The stench that wasn't quite sulphur was overwhelming, and she stopped breathing after the first gasp, glad to have the option.

A brief spell, and the flames were as transparent as spring water. Though their flickering was still distracting, it took her no time to locate the source of sound. An oni, rolling around a large bronze disc.

Smirking, Mima glided across the flames, halting on the oni's path.

The oni looked no different from close up than any other of her brethren. She had short hair and large biceps bulging underneath her rolled-up sleeves. One of her horns was a mere jagged stump, broken eons ago if Mima was any judge of it. She quickly dismissed the oni as unimportant and focused her attention on the disc. Immediately, she was struck by the powerful magic emanating from it, blasting her delicate senses. She was so overwhelmed by the power just within her reach she barely noticed the image of a beautiful girl etched to its surface, with a massive white jewel symbolising an orb of magic embedded between her hands.

One thing was clear. This was a treasure worth snagging.

The oni had paused and narrowed her eyes on Mima. She let go of the disc — which stayed upright even without the steadying hands, to Mima's vague interest but no particular surprise — and puffed out her chest like Mima was some silly human easily frightened by a show of strength. It was almost cute.

"Dunno who you are, convict," she rasped. "But you got in the way of the wrong enforcer."

"Convict? Hardly. Just an ordinary traveller." Mima raised an eyebrow. "And _enforcer?_ Really? Aren't you in the wrong Hell for that?"

"Location doesn't matter as long as you're on the Ministry payroll." The oni narrowed her eyes. "As I think you well know."

Had the self-proclaimed enforcer truly recognised her? Unlikely, but then, Mima _was_ very memorable. She certainly didn't remember this run-of-the-mill oni, but why would she?

In any case, she smiled. "And here I thought you were a looter stealing everything not nailed down."

The oni's nostrils flared in indignation. "You thought wrong. I'm here to catch sinners such as this one." She rapped her knuckles against the disc.

For the first time in several years, Mima was surprised. "That piece of metal is supposed to be a sinner?" Now that the oni mentioned it, underneath all the swirling magic pulsed the tell-tale signs of a soul. That would make things trickier.

"Why else would it be in Hell? There's a bunch of suckers sealed all over the underground. I'm here to make sure those still locked in stay here, and that those who aren't," she emphasised her words by punching the disc, producing another resonant clang, "are gathered together and shipped where they belong."

Mima looked over the disc with fresh eyes. Even knowing it was alive, it was doing such an excellent job imitating an inanimate hunk of metal that it honestly might have fooled her had the oni not spilled the beans. Impressive, almost. Definitely someone she would like to introduce herself to.

She smirked and folded her arms. "I think not."

"What?"

"I think that instead you're going to be a good girl and leave this... sinner in my custody."

The oni barked with sudden laughter. "You're challenging me? You're either mad or stupid."

So, the oni hadn't actually recognised her. More's the pity.

"I'll have you know," the oni continued, "I have never lost to a non-oni in a fair fight. Never."

In other words, she had lost to a non-oni in an unfair fight. Even the boasting of the oni inevitably revealed hilarious truths. Besides, did she really assume Mima was going to fight fairly? Oh, that was just _precious._

Mima straightened her back. "Do you have any conditions you want to lay down, or should we just begin?"

The oni blinked. "You're serious."

"I never jest."

The oni licked her lips. Whether it was due to excitement or sudden apprehension, the smile on her face widened. "Fine. Let's make it honest. A show of strength, with none of that magic crap."

"Fine by me."

The oni laughed again. "You _are_ mad."

Perhaps it was the oni who was truly mad, Mima thought as they assumed their positions on the field. As straightforward as they were, a clearly venerable oni such as this one ought to have had a drop of cunning, or at the very least expected subterfuge under the circumstances. But who was Mima to judge? She was no enma.

In any case, she was going to be kind today, as a thanks for the oni to leading her to the disc. She'd give her the straightforward fight she wanted, even. Or at least, something resembling one.

With a smile, she cast her spell.

Immediately, her physical shell felt more sturdy, less easily malleable but much faster, all prepared for dashing and sneak attacks. It was yet another spell that had come to her unbidden during hours of repose. This one had given her less mileage than the bulk of them, but she enjoyed using it when she could.

She waited for the oni to dig her heels into the rocky plain, then lunged.

She had this to say of the oni: she had good reflexes. She didn't hesitate upon seeing the punch coming, and immediately tilted to the side, ready to strike back at Mima's unguarded left side.

Of course, by the time the oni's fist landed, it struck thin air.

Another point in favour of the oni: she didn't look surprised. Well, not until Mima, smirking with satisfaction, channelled all of the white aura around herself to her hand and struck the oni between her eyes.

Magic truly was the great equaliser. For all her heft, the oni was lifted off her feet and sent flying backwards, disappearing from sight into the field of flames.

Mima allowed the aura to dissipate, waiting for the oni to re-emerge. She didn't.

Well, whatever. Perhaps she had fallen into a sulphurous cleft beyond sight and died. Even if she hadn't and was just biding her time, oni didn't do sneak-attacks. Mima would be well warned by an angry roar if the fool returned while she was inspecting her bounty.

Speaking of which...

She walked to the front of the motionless disc, adjusting her sleeves and making sure her hair was presentable. The metal was curiously warm under her touch where she allowed her fingers to trace the outlines of the engraved girl.

"Are you a tsukumogami, then?" she asked in a low voice. "Can't imagine an object like this being abandoned. Or even who could have made it, or for what purpose."

The metal shuddered.

She stepped back just in time to witness a ring of purple flames emerging from the ground around the disc. They rose high enough to lick the orb in the middle, then faded as the orb began to glow.

The image's eyes snapped open.

A wisp-like vapour poured out of the orb, quickly assuming the shape of the girl in the image. She was a light grey and almost transparent, like a weakling ghost, but this notion proved deceptive the moment she opened her eyes: they were a vivid purple only ever seen in natural world in the most violently coloured irises and chrysanthemums, with the blank look of youkai entrapped underground for too long.

Mima nodded quietly, appreciating the theatrics. Curiously, she still couldn't tell just what kind of a youkai the spirit was.

The vapour reformed to create a soft smile on the spirit's face. "Thank you." Its voice was like an echo calling from a deep well.

Unwarranted or not, such gratitude could be of use. "Think nothing of it. Have you been here for long?"

The spirit's smile fell. "I have... long since lost count."

That figured. Whether it genuinely was the case and simply felt like it, time moved very differently in Hell. A day outside could easily be a millennium inside. "I'm heading back out once I'm done here. I could guide you." For a price, of course.

For a moment, the girl faded into an indistinct cloud, then returned with her hands joined in prayer. "I thank you, but I ought to stay here. My penance is not complete."

"Penance? I thought they were done giving it here." If the spirit was interested in lingering in actual Hell, why was she pleased Mima had stopped the oni?

"It's not... an official penance. It is rather something I find necessary for my soul."

Mima shrugged. It was no skin off her nose if the spirit was insane. "In that case, would you mind helping me out? I'm looking for knowledge." It behoved to ask nicely before bringing out the big guns.

Fortunately, it seemed the spirit was the obliging sort. "Gladly!"

Mima snapped her fingers. An array of lights appeared behind her and solidified into a floating seat. She sat down and crossed her legs. "So, who do I have the pleasure of addressing? And how exactly did you wind up down here?"

The spirit's reaction wasn't what she had been expecting. For several moments, she stared at Mima without a word, like something about her request had been beyond rude. When she next spoke, however, her tone was perfectly mild. "I'm terribly sorry I didn't introduce myself sooner. I am called Kikuri."

After the plant or the deity? Either way, Mima nodded. "Mima. I'm a goddess."

If Kikuri found her joke funny, she didn't show it. "...Mima. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She fell into a deep reflection that lasted long enough for Mima to quirk her eyebrow. Upon noticing this, the vapour once again divided, but after reforming, Kikuri spoke as if she had merely paused to catch an unnecessary breath. "As I said before, I have been here for a very long time. ...As long as I remember, in fact." She hesitated and looked away as soon as she was done.

Mima kept her expression level. So, the spirit was lying, and inexpertly so. She'd listen to the tale regardless and see if she could pull the truth out of it with her wits alone. "Right. So you've always been like this?"

Kikuri visibly hesitated, then appeared to come to a decision of some sort. "...No. It's faint, but I do have memories of having had a body once. A body I was born in, I mean."

"Got separated from it, huh? Happens to the best of us." This might be mildly useful, but frankly, Mima's interest was waning. "So, you probably know the lay of the land pretty well?"

"What do you seek?"

"Knowledge. Power. Treasure if you have neither of the first two. I'm not too picky."

"You will find at least one of the three if you cross these fields and continue down the path." Kikuri hesitated again. "There is a spirit much more ancient than I who dwells at the shrine in the depths. I... cannot guarantee she will give you anything, but you can tell her that you aided me and perhaps—"

A tremendous roar filled the air, drowning out Kikuri's words. Mima turned around just in time to see a large figure rushing towards them.

By the looks of her, the oni had indeed fallen into flames. Her clothes, her hair, and even her skin smouldered, fuming more yellow clouds into the air. She lurched towards Mima and Kikuri, her hands curled into boulder-like fists, her eyes aflame.

Mima clicked her tongue. "And here I thought we'd seen the last of her." She got up and began gathering energy in her palm.

Energy she never had time to release. As the oni began running towards them at full tilt, Kikuri retreated back towards her disc. Instead of vanishing back within, however, she curled up her body and raised her index fingers to the jewel on her headdress.

A beam of red light emerged from the jewel, travelling so rapidly through the air Mima could barely follow it as it struck the oni in the neck. A blink, and the oni was no longer there, but flying backwards with the expression of naked rage giving way to stupefaction. Once again, she disappeared into the smoke.

Mima waited in silence for a moment, then decided to assume the oni had fallen straight back into whichever hole she had clawed her way out of. She quirked her eyebrow at Kikuri. "Guess you didn't really need my help before."

Kikuri's eyelashes fluttered. "I find moving around by myself tiresome, so I intended to allow the oni to take me a bit further before chasing her off. Even so, I appreciate your sentiment in thwarting her before."

"Right." Mima looked around, then pointed at what she assumed was a fresh direction. "Is the shrine you spoke of over there?"

"Yes. It is a long journey ahead, but since you have made it this far..." Kikuri closed her eyes. "Please tell Lady Konngara that I send my regards."

"Can do."

"And perhaps..." Kikuri sighed, sounding like a distant gust of wind, and began to retreat. She was already half absorbed back into the disc before she continued. "Perhaps you might come see me again on your way back to the surface?"

"Sure." There might yet be more to gain from speaking to this strange youkai. "No promises, though."

Kikuri smiled. "I would truly appreciate it."

Mima nodded and turned to leave.

"Awazuki."

Mima turned back.

Kikuri had returned fully within the disc, looking every inch an inanimate object. She made no moves to re-emerge and clarify her utterance.

After two more moments of silence, Mima shrugged and walked away.


	16. Interlude: The Recorded Sealing of an Oriental Demon

The lights in the horizon go out one by one, till even the last straggler runs out of power and is snuffed out for good.

You wait, wreathed in darkness. Faint lights pop up again as your rear guard bursts into action. In other words, Marisa has failed. It's not due to a lack of intellect or even a lack of hard work — you have seen the effort she puts into her studies and pitied she was born a human — but it's rather a desire to learn everything at once which led her to focus on nothing and muddling together what she did learn. It's maturity she lacks.

The scolding which you intend to give her must wait. It's with a triumphant smirk and a grand flourish that you unveil your wings and the flashy garments you have prepared for this confrontation.

The girl reacts with no more than a slight frown. Your smile widens.

You cast your first spell and watch her steer hastily out of the way. She's a talented one, this slip of a shrine maiden. You doubt even a drop of the blood of the ancient Hakurei clan flows in her veins — you'd be more surprised to hear she's a direct descendant than not, in fact — but she has a steadfastness to her, even at such a young age, that you can't help but acknowledge her potential even as you work to crush her.

A true Hakurei shrine maiden, you think as your ram yourself into her staff first, and watch her disengage from the impact, blinking and wavering, but unrelenting. There's a gleam to her eye that makes you feel strangely nostalgic, like you have already experienced this battle before; the determined shrine maiden against the impossibly powerful magician who she cannot possibly dream to beat. She really is something. Bold. Dedicated. Suitably insane for this insane world.

And alone.

It's a useless thought to have in the midst of battle, and you don't let it impede you as you unleash your next volley. Still, it clings on, like an irritating minion that doesn't understand its contributions aren't needed at the moment.

Of course she is alone. Everyone is, when you get right down to it. You have always been alone, too, from the mists of your life from which nothing but your purpose remains, and not once have you allowed it to bother you. The purpose is all you need.

The purpose which seems hollow, somehow, even as you watch the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb hum with power and allow yourself to manifest an additional four wings.

Why have you clung to it for so long, you wonder as the girl manages a sneaky hit by swerving to the side before rushing you. Haven't you forsaken everything else tethering you to your needless past? Does remembering something truly make it worth preserving?

You open your palm and fill the sky with stars. The girl's eyes widen as she attempts to dodge them all, but it no longer amuses you as it would have a moment earlier. This is what you wanted, isn't it? A climactic showdown allowing for a monumental display of power while also letting you to claim the orb, as insignificant as its powers ultimately may be in the face of all you've gained since you began pursuing this goal. And an opportunity to kill the girl, of course.

_But why?_

Something's wrong with the flow of time. You look at yourself and see that somehow, in spite of everything, the girl has managed to plant her ofuda exactly where they needed to be to seal you.

You have just enough time to meet her eyes. There's no glee or triumph there, only relief. Relief, and surprise. On some level, she expected to die.

How many chances did you have to strike the decisive blow, you wonder as your essence contracts and your extremities slip away. Once at the very beginning, again when her side was struck by an errant orb, to speak nothing of when you truly unleashed your powers. So many openings, and the human body so fragile and squishy. And you let them all pass by.

And yet, as your vision fades till all you can see are those eyes, entirely familiar even though this is the first time you have ever truly looked at them, you can't bring yourself to entirely regret this outcome.


	17. Epilogue: The White Lotus

The shrine was new.

There had always been a shrine on the hill, of course, long before the Great Hakurei Barrier had ever been dreamt up. Still, there was no mistaking it: even without inspecting the woodwork, Mima could sense none of the ancient magic that had seeped into the grain of the previous building. Curious, though likely insignificant.

"Mima?"

"Hm? Right." She refocused her attention on the board before her. "My turn, was it?"

Her opponent, a venerable turtle with an inexplicable white beard, craned his neck forward. "It is mine, I believe. I move my silver general to the back left."

Mima placed Genjii's piece where he wished it. During their first game, Genjii had moved his pieces on his own, but it had soon become clear the only way they would ever finish more than one game in a day was if someone with opposable thumbs did the heavy lifting.

Mima crossed her arms and considered her next move. To promote her knight or to capture Genjii's pawn? Choices, choices. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"There have been many incidents, yes. You would be better off asking Lady Reimu directly. I'm afraid I've mostly lost track of events since my retirement."

Mima moved her knight forward, earning a rising eyebrow from Genjii. "Surely you know what happened to the shrine, at least."

"It was an earthquake," A new, but entirely familiar voice said behind her. She turned to see Reimu Hakurei standing behind her with her arms folded and trying very hard to look cross. "When did you slither back here?"

"Is that any way to greet the only goddess willing to grace your shrine?" To her great surprise, Mima discovered the smile which rose to her face wasn't entirely false. "I grew bored of Makai and thought I'd come to see how irrecoverably you have managed to wreck Gensokyo in the meanwhile. Surely my presence can be nothing but an improvement."

Reimu's expression remained stony. "I'm having a guest over today. Keep your voice down."

"I promise nothing."

Reimu rolled her eyes, then retreated inside without bothering to slide the door shut. Mima continued to smile as she moved the piece Genjii extended his neck towards.

"Reimu has visitors, now?" The last time Mima had been to Gensokyo, humans had avoided the shrine like the plague.

"A youkai, most likely."

"Ah." The more things changed.

She momentarily ignored the game in favour of eyeing the pond Genjii dwelt in. Water lilies dominated the surface, their white petals brilliant in the sun in spite of the encroaching autumn. Beautiful, much like Gensokyo had been during her flight over it before her arrival at the shrine. For all the fun she made of Reimu's efforts, the land did appear peaceful for the time being.

Even more curiously, Mima didn't mind the peacefulness. Perhaps she was growing old.

She looked past the flowers and focused on her own image on the surface of the water. Familiar emerald eyes, one of the few details she rarely changed when altering her malleable appearance, gazed back at her. She hadn't bothered with glamour that day in general, and apart from her garments she looked as she suspected she had on her day of death. Bold, pale, and curiously young. Younger than Reimu was now, come to think of it.

She had just dismissed the thought and continued the game when Reimu's voice resonated through the open door. "Take a seat." There was a pause, followed by a sigh. "Actually, come in. It's getting chilly after all."

"Thank you. It has been a while, hasn't it?" Reimu's guest had a pleasant and dignified voice, the polar opposite of the shrine maiden's. It wasn't readily familiar to Mima, but something about it gave her pause regardless.

She turned to Genjii. "Who did you say her guest was, again?"

Genjii tilted his head. "A local leader of youkai, by my understanding. She is a former nun, previously sealed in Makai. She runs a Buddhist temple meant for youkai."

"Reimu's rubbing shoulders with other religious leaders?" There was a combination Mima would never have expected. Of course, the same could be said about a youkai-run Buddhist temple. The tale of an ancient sealed beings was as old as time, however. Come to think of it, Shinki had likely spoken of Reimu's guest. Or of a similar figure sealed in some dusty corner of Makai, anyway.

Mima shrugged. So many youkai, so many dull fates. "Now, where were we-"

"Excuse me," The pleasant voice was now loud and clear and coming from directly behind her. "I'm sorry to disturb your game. I wasn't aware Reimu had other guests today. My name is Byakuren..."

Her voice petered out as Mima turned. They stared at each other in perfect silence.

A maple leaf, the first red maple leaf of the year, broke free of its branch and landed amidst the water lilies. It was accompanied by a whisper.

"Hijiri."


End file.
